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Throne Hunters Book 2, Chapter 39
🕑 Added 2024-08-23 13:00:13 +0000 UTCVic yanked open the front door even as he hurled the shopping bags aside. “The carriage!”
“The House Celestara carriage?” cried out Sam in disbelief.
“It’s got four wheels,” said Harald, rushing to Kársek’s side. “That’s all we need!”
The dwarf was grimacing as if experiencing deep intestinal pain. “Go without me. I’ll try to hold her back.
“That’s not how we operate,” said Harald, clamping down on all his questions and incredulity. “Hurry!”
Nessa took Kársek’s other arm, and together they rushed out the parlor just as a spear of golden light flashed into the room from outside, so bright that it seared Harald’s vision and reduced everything to a muted roar. A barrel-sized portion of the wall disappeared, perfectly disintegrated, and Harald realized the attack had missed Kársek’s head by inches.
Everybody rushed out the front door and pounded down the driveway. Harald wanted to cast terrified glances behind him, but what was the point? He retained an iron control of his fear. He and Nessa all but carried Kársek out of the iron gate that Vic had flung open, and right up to the pearlescent carriage that awaited outside.
It was a gorgeous affair. Four matched white mares stood in the harnesses, while two House Celestara guards stared at them with the same shock Harald was feeling himself.
Vic glared up at the men. “Harry, your aura!”
Both Aching Depths and Vic’s Aura of Cruelty washed over both men as Vic leaped up alongside them on the carriage seat.
“Gentlemen, jump or die.”
A cry of pure fury came from inside the manor.
The men exchanged a glance and jumped down to the street.
Sam yanked open the carriage door. Nessa helped Harald lever the dwarf inside, even as Vic cracked the whips and cried out, “Hyah! Hyah!”
The carriage lurched forward, almost leaving Harald behind, who flung himself after it and caught Sam’s outstretched hand.
She pulled him into the carriage, the door swinging back and forth. Vic steered them into the street, eliciting a string of curses from a hansom cab as it was forced to veer aside.
Harald, gasping, clutched at the carriage’s doorframe and leaned out to peer behind him, not daring to think them yet safe.
They weren’t.
Yseult came racing into view, arms pumping, her helm hiding her features, hair streaming behind her. She leaned into the turn, moving out into the street, intent on giving pursuit.
“Faster, Vic!” cried Harald, pitching his voice to carry over the roar of the wheels. “Faster!”
The four horses were magnificent, chosen to represent House Celestara’s glory and wealth, and now they proved their mettle. The carriage continued to accelerate as the horses broke into a gallop, a speed never used on the common thoroughfares. The carriage jounced and lurched as it hurtled over the cobblestones, faster and faster, swaying violently as Vic screamed out warnings and guided the four horses as best he could around the more placid traffic.
It was madness. People screamed their curses and outrage, and twice the carriage tilted right over onto two wheels, the whole of it teetering on complete collapse.
But always, Harald kept his gaze behind them.
On the figure of Yseult Khan, the third-ranked raider in all of Flutic, who refused to give up the chase.
And who was gaining on them.
She sprinted tirelessly, arms pumping mechanically like a scale-golem, so nimble that no obstacle slowed her down. Once she leaped clear over a carriage, soaring up into the air, and at the apex of her jump she swept her hand, a sword appearing momentarily in her hand so that she unleashed a flash of golden light.
“Down!” screamed Harald, diving for the floor.
Sam and Nessa pulled the woozy Kársek atop him, and then the upper corner of the carriage exploded into splinters and light.
Sam screamed, but all Harald could think was to twist around and gaze up through the wooden rent at the carriage seat where Vic should have been.
It was bare.
Harald’s heart shuddered in horror. Had that strike cut his friend in half, incinerated him instantaneously?
“Appreciate the warning, Harry!” screamed Vic, swinging back up into view, his expression wild, his grin stretching nearly ear to ear. “Whoo!”
The horses were straining in the harnesses, fighting for every ounce of speed as they tore along Baldric Avenue. Faster and faster, Vic laughing and shouting commands for people to clear the way.
Were this any earlier or later, there would have been too much traffic, and they’d have been doomed.
As it was, they swayed from side to side, everyone jostling within the carriage, Kársek lying on his back, eyes closed, skin ashen. Sam had a hand on his brow, and her Beacon of Hope aura was comforting them all, along with something more: Guardian’s Mantle.
It overlay the first aura like a cooling damp cloth, deepening the first while bolstering not only Harald’s mind and confidence, but his very body. He felt his reserves replenishing, his physical resilience deepening.
Hopefully it would help counter whatever damage Kársek had done to himself.
Harald peered outside once more, searching for that deadly figure.
There.
Yseult had fallen back. Even she, it seemed, couldn’t sprint as fast as a galloping horse forever.
But she wasn’t giving up. She navigated the snarled traffic that Vic left in his wake with effortless skill, vaulting and veering around stalled and crashed carts, carriages, and cabs, her hair and ruined cloak flying behind her.
They were tearing through the Angelic Quarter at terrific speed. Harald’s heart still raced, and he wanted to laugh, exhilarated at having escaped such certain death.
“Almost there!” cried Vic. “Big turn. Hold on!”
The carriage slowed, rocked, and then they rose up on both left wheels as they veered hard to the right. Sam screamed again even as Nessa grabbed Harald and yanked him over to the rising side of the carriage, providing counterweight.
For an endless, gut-churning second, Harald swore they’d flip over and crash onto their side, but then the carriage straightened out and the wheels hit the cobblestones once more, and they were off.
“Where’d he learn to drive like that?” cried out Sam, clutching a headrest.
Nessa laughed. “Vic excels at evading furious pursuit!”
“Look sharp!” cried Vic. “Sonora up ahead!”
Harald peered out and behind them once more, and gave an involuntary shout of alarm. Yseult was only a dozen yards behind them, leaning into her sprint, coming right after them.
Harald didn’t think.
He summoned the Goldchops.
Both hatchets appeared beside him, then flew without fear or hesitation right at the Gold-ranked raider.
The collided almost instantaneously. Heart in his throat, Harald watched, hoping against hope that the Masterwork Artifact might stop Yseult, but she simply ducked under them both so that they flew past her, and kept coming.
“Fuck,” hissed Harald, but then he sensed the hatchets reverse their direction and come right back.
Yseult wasn’t surprised, necessarily, but this time one hatchet came in low, the other high.
Her golden shield flared, encircling her completely, and both hatchets detonated. Harald felt the shock of their returning to his Cosmos, and out of sheer desperation summoned Shadowpaw so that he fell upon her even as he materialized.
The Shadow Mastiff’s fury and surprise came powerfully through their bond. The hound bayed as he fell upon the Gold-ranked raider, claws slashing, and Harald swung the Dawnblade and unleashed a Demonic Edge.
Had Shadowpaw not been a Level 27 Servitor, had Harald’s own Soul Rank not been Divine, surely neither would have had any effect on Yseult.
And to all intents and purposes, they practically didn’t. A ghostly figure of a winged woman appeared in the Demonic Edge’s path, absorbing the crackling black energy, even as the golden sphere appeared once more around Yseult, incinerating Shadowpaw.
But perhaps it was his doom-laden howl, or some combination of factors, because Yseult’s next step twisted on the cobblestones and she tripped, twisting as she fell to roll rapidly along the ground, round and round, then slide out.
“Yes!” screamed Harald, punching the ceiling of the carriage with such savage joy that he smashed his fist through the wood.
But Yseult, even falling behind as she was, leaped to her feet, unhurt, and came after.
“Here we go!” cried Vic. “No time to talk, just get through the gate!”
And then he was hauling back on the reins as Sonora Manor slid into view, its high stone walls marred by ivy and moss.
The carriage slowed before the wrought iron gate that was set into an elaborately carved archway, but clearly wasn’t going to stop. Trusting in his companions, Harald leaped down to the moving sidewalk, landing roughly and staggering even as his friends jumped down after, Vic abandoning the carriage altogether.
The Sonora coat of arms was emblazoned overhead. Twin modest gatehouses flanked the entrance, though only one boasted a sentry. The gate itself was in the process of being restored; one half gleamed as if freshly scrubbed and painted, while the second yet bore the signs of rust and wear.
The sentry stepped neatly out of his guardhouse then cried out in anger as Vic hauled open the gate and dove inside. Harald and the others piled after, only to turn and gaze out into the street as Nessa slammed the gate shut once more.
Yseult came into view so quickly that she actually slid along the sidewalk as she turned to stop; her hair wild, her uniform and cloak shredded, her armor gleaming and undamaged.
“What is the meaning of this?” roared the sentry, an elderly man, rail thin and boasting an incredible mustache that completely hid the lower half of his face. “This is private property!”
“Bosworth! Darling, it’s me, Vic.” The sentry oriented on the Rapier Regent. “We were expected for dinner, remember?”
Yseult stepped up to the barred gate. “You. Sentry. These people are wanted by House Celestara, whose full authority I represent. Grant me access to step on your property and retrieve them.”
Bosworth was puffing out through his mustache, glancing back and forth between Vic and the deeply menacing woman outside his gate. “It is with sincere regret that I must deny you this request!” His shout was shaky, but his whole body seemed to vibrate with purpose. “The sanctity of House Sonora is mine to protect, and I shall not allow violence to occur to Lady Sonora’s guests while I yet draw breath!”
Yseult inclined her head. “But of course. House Celestara would never dream of violating House Sonora’s demesne. Please convey my good wishes to your lady, and inform her that I wish to speak with Harald Darrowdelve as soon as she is done with him.”
Harald remained perfectly poised despite wishing to sag with relief. That iron gate was purely symbolic. Yseult could have torn it aside with her bare hands. But to transgress on Sonora’s property would involve Lord Draken, and she would then be forced to account for that transgression before the Assembly.
Not, it seemed, something she was willing to do for Harald’s sake.
“Cheers, Bozzy,” said Vic, raking his golden hair back. “Any idea what the countess is serving for dinner? I forgot to bring the wine.”
The old sentry glared at Vic, then bowed stiffly to Yseult. “I shall take your message to my lady. Mr. Carmine, Ms. Ermarine, and your… friends… please accompany me.”
And with a stiff gait, the old man led them up the driveway, leaving Yseult to watch them through the bars.
The driveway was brief, and they turned sidelong in a courtyard before the entrance to the manor house. The garden was small but elegant, with gravel pathways winding through neatly trimmed hedges. The central feature was a fountain, the stonework darkened by time, but a plume of water still rose high into the air.
Everything had the air of just barely being kept together. The flowerbeds were vibrant but in need of weeding. The gravel pathways spilled out onto the grass, and the manor itself was in need of repair.
Harald felt immense relief when Kársek straightened and was able to walk unaided. The dwarf’s visage was still pale, but his gaze was focused, his manner stern.
“How… I mean, what was that?” Harald pitched his voice low. “How did you knock a Gold-ranked raider through the wall?”
Kársek grimaced. “My power is not yet consolidated, and I haven’t finished imbuing my rune hammer. My strike was thus weakened, and the process of forming the rune… painful.”
“You mean…” Harald tried to understand. “That was a weak attack?”
“Hmm,” said Kársek, his dissatisfaction evident. “It was. But it was sufficient for us to escape, so I shall not complain too much.”
Harald raked a shaky hand through his hair. His mind boggled. What sort of power was his new friend going to manifest if he was displeased with what he’d just done?
They all seemed partially stunned by the violence and speed of the last few minutes, and walked behind Bosworth in silence. Harald took in the grounds, willing his pulse to slow down.
Sonora Manor had the same bones as his own, but wasn’t nearly so sunken into disrepair. The large windows with leaded glass panes were washed and no doubt allowed plenty of light to stream into the interior, while the slate roof appeared in good and uniform repair.
But even here there were signs of neglect. The stately architecture appeared faded, the paint bleached, and moss had begun to grow in hard-to-reach areas.
The large front door opened, and another servant in Sonora livery emerged to stare frostily at their gathered party. A short man, circular in body but with a head made triangular by his prodigious nose, he wore a monocle over one eye and his pale skin was flushed pink as if by exertion or constant choler.
“Master Carmine,” he called, tone brassy and stern. “Lady Ermarine. You are early and bring unexpected company.”
“Rivik!” Vic bounded up the stairs with a grin before Bosworth could expostulate. “Ah, you’re as ever a sight for sore eyes. So punctilious, so severe, so… adult. We were, I fear, forced into arriving early. No, I swear it. Pacing outside your front gate? An enraged Lady Yseult Khan of House Celestara, demanding that the countess expel my boon companion here so she can kidnap him. May I introduce Samantha Tuppins, Kársek, and the target of Lady Yseult’s wrath, Sir Harald Darrowdelve?”
Rivik blanched and looked to Bosworth for confirmation, who nodded grimly.
“Then we’d best skip the small talk and proceed within. We must alert the countess immediately. If you will all follow me.”
Harald exchanged a glance with Sam.
They passed into the spacious entrance hall whose floors were of polished marble, though here and there some of the expansive tiles were cracked or chipped. Tapestries hung from the walls alongside other signs of heraldry, but though the colors were faded, Harald felt drawn to the designs and the stories displayed therein.
There wasn’t time to dally, however. Rivik marched swiftly toward the back, leading them into a great hall with high ceilings and exposed wooden beams, a large fireplace dead in one side and an array of mismatched furniture creating an atmosphere of faded grandeur. On and through to the open door of a library, where he paused to click his heels together and give a sharp bow.
“Countess, your dinner guests have arrived. Master Carmine has seen fit to invite Lady Tuppins, Master Kársek, and Sir Darrowdelve. They have also brought an enraged Lady Yseult Khan to your gate, who I believe is still there, and asks for you to eject Sir Darrowdelve into her custody.”
Vic glided into the room, his golden hair gleaming in the lantern light, his arms spread wide as if to embrace the countess who arose from her reading chair in the corner.
“Lady Sonora, the sight of you as ever gladdens my heart and restores my faith in womanhood everywhere. Thank you for this most gracious of invites, and my most sincere apologies to have dragged this trouble to your doorstep. You recall Harald Darrowdelve? House Celestara just attempted to kidnap him following his declining their invitation to join. We stole Lady Yseult’s carriage, and you won’t believe the drama and excitement that ensued as we raced here in search of sanctuary.”
They followed Vic into the library, which was a small room whose walls were lined with bookshelves stuffed with books of all kinds. A thick rug covered the marble floor, and evening light filtered in through tall vertical windows.
Countess Sonora set aside her book as she rose to her feet. She wore an understated but exquisite gown of forest green velvet, the rich fabric catching the soft lantern light that filled the room. Her orange-red hair was styled simply, swept back and held in place with a silver hairpin, with a few curls falling to frame her freckled face.
“Vic.” Her welcoming smile disappeared. “You jest?”
Rivik coughed. “Bosworth has confirmed the outlines of this claim. Lady Yseult Khan was waiting outside your gate for you to eject Harald Darrowdelve.”
“I’m sorry,” said Harald. “Truly. I wish I had another safe harbor to flee to, but in the heat of the moment, only your estate felt like a viable option. I regret bringing you into my personal problems.”
“You have indeed placed me in a precarious situation.” Countess Sonora studied him. “You declined Lady Yseult’s invitation? May I ask why?”
“For the same reason I asked Vic to bring me here tonight.” The moment was upon him, and Harald realized that he felt far more uncertain than he’d anticipated. Not because he’d come to question his decision, but on some level he’d thought he’d be doing her an immense favor by offering his services, striding into her beleaguered estate to bless her with his prowess and fame.
But now Lady Yseult Khan stood outside her gate, with all of Melisende’s influence and power behind her. He would be asking her to directly shield him from House Celestara, and as he met her shrewd stare, he felt far less confident of his advantages.
“As you know, the major Houses have been expressing interest in my career. House Celestara has been particularly aggressive, and Lady Yseult Khan was… very displeased when I turned down their offer. She demanded I return with her to Celestara Manor, and when I refused, indicated that she was willing to use any amount of force to compel me.”
The countess frowned. “Lady Yseult is renowned for her power. How did you defy her?”
Harald hesitated. Should he reveal Kársek’s power? “Her arrogance was her downfall. Our combined abilities were just enough to allow us to slip out of her grasp and claim her carriage. She gave chase, and even now I guess wants to… I don’t know. Force me to join? Make me disappear?”
The countess nodded.
“The other Houses have made their own offers in turn, but I’ve no interest in joining with a major house. Mine has always been a minor but independent lineage, and I’ve come to realize how much I value being my own person. But the realities of Flutic mean I can’t continue to stand on my own. So, after conferring with Vic and Nessa, I realized that a course of action remained open to me that I think would benefit all involved.”
Her stare was piercing, her hazel green eyes as focused on him as those of a peregrine falcon.
Harald gathered himself then knelt on the carpet, his expression fixed and determined. “Countess Sonora, I, Harald Darrowdelve, humbly offer my service and loyalty to your house. By my honor and my blade, I pledge to uphold your cause and defend your interests, while humbly requesting that my duties allow me the independence to pursue personal projects as well. With this vow, I dedicate myself to you and the prosperity of House Sonora, seeking only to balance our mutual goals.”
His voice rang out in the parlor, and he did his best to ignore the shocked expressions on his companions’ faces. Had he presumed too much? Made his offer too soon? Suddenly nervous, he tried for a smile. “That is, of course, if you will have me.”
The countess studied him, her expression cool, her lips pursed. “Please, Harald, rise.”
Suddenly wrong-footed, he rose and sat, his stomach tightening. He strove to remain as poised as she.
“If I understand correctly, you have turned down the offers of far greater Houses, namely House Celestara, because you feared they would demand too much of you?”
“I - yes. But not only that, their goals, their methods - I’ve no interest in enriching Houses who already have everything and only want more. I want only room to grow strong so that I may one day be of service as well. And House Sonora seems…”
He sought the right words that wouldn’t give offense.
“What Harald is trying to say,” began Vic, but the countess cut him off with a sharply raised hand, her eyes never leaving Harald.
“Allow Master Darrowdelve to speak for himself.”
“All I’m trying to express, Lady Sonora, is that I believe we could both benefit from my serving your House. My strength can further your cause and goals, while your House will shield me from Gold-ranked raiders like the one outside your gate who are intent on removing me from the board.”
Countess Sonora sat back down in her chair and laid one finger along her lips. “I see. Because my House, being insignificant, will nullify you as a threat to their future interests?”
“No,” began Harald, but the countess spoke smoothly over him.
“Or perhaps it is that you see in me a young and impressionable patron whose desperation and dire straits will make me easily swayed and manipulated? Someone who won’t interfere or complain too much when you declare yourself too busy with your own affairs, even as I throw my meager resources into constraining far mightier Houses?”
Harald flushed. “Absolutely not. This is a serious offer. I have spoken at length with both Vic and Nessa about it, and truly believe we would both benefit.”
“I see.” Her tone was chill. “And I benefit how, precisely?”
“I… I would fight to further your interests, harvest scales alongside Vic and Nessa, I’d uphold your honor, do everything that a loyal member of your household would do.”
“As long as it doesn’t interfere too much with your existing plans.”
“My lady, please. I didn’t mean to give insult. This offer is sincerely made, and I would take my oath seriously.”
“Your oath to uphold my cause and defend my interests.”
“Yes.”
“What are my interests, Harald? What is my cause?”
“To restore your household to its former glory by beating back your foes.”
“And what would that entail?”
Harald fought to remain calm. “I know you’ve lost your mine and various holdings in Marheim. I know that you’ve been attacked here in Flutic.”
“Too vague. You’re swearing your blade to my cause. What would that require of you, here in the capital?”
Harald didn’t know what to say. He knew better than to glance at Vic for help.
“You don’t know, which means you don’t care.” Sonora drew herself up. “You offer your oath without knowing what you’re swearing to, and in the same breath insult me by demanding my requirements not to infringe in your pursuit of your own goals even as you expect me to rebuff House Celestara without any thought to what that would cost me. My house may have lost much in terms of stature and wealth, but we have not lost our dignity.”
Countess Sonora stood. Chin raised, eyes glittering, she glared at him. “So no, Harald. I refuse your offer of service. You will have to find another hapless house to act as your safe harbor from the storms that follow you. Now please, be so kind as to leave my property.”
Comments
Traellium
This might be peak fiction????
StandardBearer
Bravo! Great chapter and well done on the speech.
Manofonezerg
Goddamn. You knocked that chapter out of the park Phil.
Lorenz
Loved it! Harold’s persuasive speech to the Countess was just what the doctor ordered, and the honesty about Vorakhar was critical. I only hope she doesn’t dismiss him from her house for that. Fingers crossed!
Dual.
Tftc
Paul1441
That was a great chapter, strong work!
Kevin Zhang
FANTASTICCCCC
ShivaMcTimber
TYFTC! Phew! I am very happy their relationship is starting with the truth. I noted Nessa is like a sister in Harald's words, romance busted.
A.l
Wow.. fantastic chapter
