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Throne Hunters Book 2, Chapter 17
🕑 Added 2024-06-07 13:00:17 +0000 UTCHarald all but blanched at Lady Melisende Celestis’ words. “You’re saying you’re preparing for war?”
Melisende turned back to the fireplace. “It’s not coming tomorrow, but it’s coming. Centuries of tradition have blinded us to how suddenly change can come. Perhaps not this year, but very soon, in one manner or another. Which is why I can’t help but marvel at the blindness of my peers. How can they focus on personal glory and wresting a few final scales from the Fallen Angel when such momentous events are on the horizon?”
Harald felt far out of his depth. His father, at any rate, had never spoken of any of this with him. “I wouldn’t presume to speak for the other Houses.”
“Wise. But you can speak for yourself, which is why I asked: what do you desire, Harald? Not just this month, or even this year. What are your long-term goals? And how can House Celestara assist you in reaching them?”
Harald felt that familiar sensation of standing on the edge of a surprise cliff. He’d felt it when Anita Lothbury had spoken to him of House Emberfall’s desire to bring greater equality to the city. And now this, House Celestara’s apparent desire to prepare for catastrophe.
“I’m a simple man,” he said at last. “I’ve not given any thought to these matters, as they’ve been far beyond my understanding. For now? I just want to grow strong so that when a crisis comes, I can be ready to meet it.”
“Admirable. Grow strong. Given your debts, I presume the amount of scales you have at hand will soon dry up, forcing you to raid for greater wealth and continued Ascension.”
Harald pursed his lips.
“You have in Lady Ermarine a capable tutor, but success in the dungeon requires more than learning the finer points of dueling. There are many foes that can’t be slain with a sharp blade alone. We can provide a variety of instructors with first-hand knowledge of the enemies you’ll face on each level.”
Harald inclined his head, unable to deny the appeal of such an offer.
“Further, we can embed you in high-ranking Silver or Gold teams to give you a taste of the deeper levels. You’re well aware that it takes genuine danger to rise in Class level? We can find your edge and then hone it, placing you under just the right amount of stress to fast-track your growth.”
Harald couldn’t resist a glance to where Lady Yseult was keeping Nessa trapped in conversation; Nessa met his eyes, but he was looking at the mighty warrior, ranked third in all of the city. What would it be like to go raiding with the legendary Lady Yseult?
“Wealth, expertise, continuous dungeon raids, and the political and personal support of my family.” Melisende was watching him closely. “We could negotiate the payment of your debts, and the restoration of your home. In exchange, you would be a member of House Celestara in word and spirit, wearing out colors, representing our cause, and helping me and your new companions prepare for the calamity that is to come.”
Harald sipped his brandy, nodding as his thoughts whirled.
How could he reasonably say no to such an offer? What more could a Level 2 raider ask for?
But how could he dream of revealing his connection to Vorakhar?
“You are far too generous, my lady. But I’ve already signed a charter with my crew, and Vic and Nessa are beholden to Countess Sonora.”
“Not a problem. I can speak with Countess Sonora and buy out their contracts.”
“If Vic and Nessa are willing.”
Melisende’s eyes gleamed. “Of course. Though I can guarantee that my terms would be generous.”
Harald inclined his head, conceding the point. Nessa and Lady Yseult, their conversation finished, crossed the salon to join them.
“I trust Harald hasn’t agreed to anything too compromising?” asked Nessa with a dangerous smile.
“Oh, Harald is more cagey than you give him credit for,” replied Melisende. “Though I hope I’ve made a convincing case for his joining House Celestara. And you as well, Lady Ermarine, if you would like to remain a part of his crew.”
“You’re too kind,” said Nessa. “You of course outlined the nature of the obligations he’d be shouldering in exchange for such wonders?”
“All in pursuit of the betterment of Flutic,” smiled Melisende. “The particulars, of course, are confidential.”
“And the betterment of Flutic would, coincidentally, benefit House Celestara equally?”
“If it is House Celestara alone that strives to avert catastrophe, then why not?”
“My memory fails me, my lady. How long have you been the leader of your House?”
“Six years.”
“Through Wisdom, We Command the Heavens. Isn’t that your House motto?”
“You’re memory isn’t as terrible as you claim.”
“Strange that it’s not Through Wisdom, We Save Flutic from Itself.”
“The House motto wasn’t up for review.”
“But executing its intent is your purview?”
“How can I be anything but loyal to the spirit of my House?”
“I see. Like all of us, you are helpless beneath the weight of tradition.”
“I know something of your past, Lady Ermarine. Whatever interactions you’ve had with my House in the past are no longer relevant to the discussion at hand.”
“Oh, you’re claiming it is my sordid past that’s relevant here, not your House’s political machinations?”
“I’m simply observing that it’s rich for a lady of your proclivities and storied reputation to level accusations of moral indecorum while enjoying my hospitality.”
Harald had stood, frozen, as these smiling barbs were exchanged with ever greater speed. Neither woman ceased smiling, nor did their voices change to anything but a pleasing tenor, but it was clear that it was time to intervene.
Harald stepped forward, sliding his arm through Nessa’s, and inclined his head graciously to Lady Melisende. “I believe the time has come for us to depart, my lady.” Nessa was all but vibrating under his touch, her smile so predatory that he expected her to begin snarling. “The hour’s late, and I would hate to take advantage of your hospitality.”
“But of course,” purred Lady Melisende, dismissing Nessa with a warm smile. “It has been an eventful evening, but I am glad you came for dinner. My offer stands, and I do look forward to hearing your thoughts on this matter, Sir Harald.”
“And if I may,” said Lady Yseult, “I would welcome your accompanying my crew into the dungeon in the near future. We can visit a level that will challenge but not overwhelm you.”
Harald’s heart leaped. Now that was an offer that excited him. “You are too kind, Lady Yseult. But I’d only embarrass myself in your company.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Lady Yseult’s gaze was knowing. “Reach out to me at my manor if you are interested. We can arrange something, I’m sure.”
Harald bowed his head, then stepped back to turn and follow a butler through the house and out the front doors to where their carriage waited.
Nessa spoke not a word, but a band of muscle flared into view again and again over the joint of her jaw, speaking volumes as to her mindset. Harald thanked the manservants, assisted Nessa in climbing into the carriage, or at the very least attempted to as she ignored him.
“Darrowdelve Manor,” he called to the driver.
“No.” Nessa’s tone was curt, absolute. “I need a drink without Vic’s asinine wit ruining my mood further. The Black Note.”
“The Black Note,” Harald repeated, and the driver bowed his head and cracked his lightweight whip over the heads of the horses.
Nessa stared out the window, taut as a fiddle string.
Harald hesitated, but was saved from some clumsy line by her sudden hiss. “That cunting fleshmonger. That self-satisfied rooting hog, that duplicitous -”
“Right, so that went well.”
Nessa glared at him. “And you, smiling all the while like a lamb to the slaughter.”
“I thought I held my own.”
“Only because you were oblivious to what was going on.”
“Which is maybe why I brought you?”
Nessa laughed throatily. “You’d clearly have been better served bringing Sam. What was Vic thinking? What was I thinking?”
“What did you expect?”
Nessa sighed and pressed her fingertips to her brow. “I… I don’t know. To…”
She trailed off.
“To what?”
She dropped her hand and rested her head back on the seat. “Call it morbid curiosity. I suppose some of us enjoy being burned.”
Harald studied her. “Melisende clearly did her research.”
“Oh Harald, you have no idea.” Nessa sounded tired. “It’s partially why I dressed like this.” She raised her black silk-clad arms, stared at herself, then sighed. “Playing the part, I suppose.”
“Vic said you were making a statement.”
“A declaration of shamelessness.” The fire seemed to have gone out in her. “It worked on Josse, but despite everything, he was never the true target.”
“Josse… where did that come from? Your antagonizing him so swiftly?”
Nessa hesitated, then waved the question away. “I recognized his type immediately. If you’re a woman of low rank and a certain beauty at court, you can’t help but attract them like carrion does flies. They’re all the same. Brutes who want to bruise your flesh, who want to claim you, mock you, make you feel worthless, make you feel grateful for their attention.”
Her words were clipped, her stare furious, her expression defeated. The light of a passing scale lantern played across her face, highlighting her beauty. Why did it feel like she wasn’t tell him the whole truth?
“He was primed to antagonize you from the start. I’m guessing Melisende knew he’d challenge your masculinity with provocative statements, perhaps even draw you into a duel so that she could observe firsthand how you handled yourself. To explicate your stupid mystery.”
She glanced at him, smiled pityingly.
“Oh,” said Harald. “I just thought he was… unpleasant.”
“You’ve no idea.” She laughed darkly and looked away. “At such gatherings, nothing is left to chance. If Melisende had her brute of a brother there, it’s because she desired him to act the brute. So I became the needle to his inflated pig’s bladder, and removed him from play before he could enact his role.”
Harald frowned and looked away, suddenly ashamed. How had he completely missed that angle? “And Lady Yseult?”
“She was there to make you feel like a special little boy.” Dark amusement crept into Nessa’s tone. “To spin your head with her solemn grandeur and bless you with her regard. There’s no popping her, however; she’s as she appears, and I could only hope you’d realize her role at dinner.”
“I did, to a degree. But it still worked. She’s ranked third in the whole city. She came to invite me personally. How am I not supposed to be honored?”
“Precisely.” Nessa’s voice grew low. “What did Melisende say to you while I was pulled aside?”
“She painted a bleak picture of Flutic’s future. That the city’s been hollowed out by its dependence on scales. How we’ve become vulnerable to outsiders who are licking their lips as they wait to strike.”
“And noble House Celestara is the only true citizen left manning the battlements while the others grub in the dirt for scales?”
Harald chuckled. “Something like that.”
“What did she offer you?”
Harald told her. “It seems… excessive. Even after her explanations.”
“Don’t underestimate the wealth of the old Houses. Five Infinitums aren’t much to one such as her. But moreover, you’ve become a very public prize. Whatever House claims you will deliver a public defeat to the others, as well as deprive them of a possible future hero.”
“Future hero.” Harald rubbed his palm with his thumb, feeling the new calluses he’d developed over the past month. “It’s what I want to be, but it feels… surreal, to have others take me seriously.”
Nessa smirked. “Are you being modest, or are you truly blind to your worth?”
Harald glanced up at her, questioning.
For a long moment they simply held each other’s gaze, and then Nessa smiled and looked back out the window. “You’ve heard enough flattery tonight already. I’ll save my compliments for when you’ve bought me a bottle of wine.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence, down the Eternal Circuit and into the Scale Exchange, that bustling hub of commerce where merchants from abroad gathered to display their wares to the people of Flutic. At this hour, only the Night Market was doing business, and would do so until dawn, but there were countless upscale taverns, inns, and music halls attracting those with scales to spend.
They alighted a block from The Black Note, the carriage prevented from taking them to the front door by iron stanchions that blocked off the rest of the street for pedestrians only, and then walked, arm in arm, to the quiet tavern.
Harald tried not to feel a low thrum of excitement at being with Nessa. She was his friend, nothing more. Yes, she’d never looked so beautiful, so refined, and yes, she’d been fey and elusive, hard to pin down and teasing him here and there with comments he couldn’t quite interpret.
But that meant nothing.
The Black Note had been popular when his father was young, and though its clientele had faded away, it remained obdurately open, frequented by old loyalists and younger customers drawn to its melancholy elegance. Harald had been once, descending upon it with Vic and the others one night as they’d scoured the city for Nessa, and found her there drinking alone while she listened to a soulful woman sing a wordless song to the sound of a plaintive fiddle.
The doorman, a sad-eyed giant of a man, waved them through, and they descended three steps into the smoky salon. Tables were placed in circular booths, and the only sources of illumination were a handful of scale lanterns whose light caused the diaphanous smoke from the water pipes to swirl beguiling in the air.
The place was almost empty but for a few patrons at the bar. A young, bespectacled man was playing the house harpsichord, a slow, meditative song of deceptive complexity. Nessa claimed a small table in a shadowed corner, and sighed as she slid into the cracked leather seat.
Harald ordered a bottle of 777 Verillion from the bar, deciding that the night deserved a little splurging from his few remaining scales, then sat across from Nessa, who ignored him to listen to the music, cheek resting on her palm.
The bottle was brought, the cork extracted, their glasses filled.
Harald, hoping for a resumption of their conversation, settled for listening to the musician and sipping his wine.
When finally the young man brought his trickling, meandering song to a close, there was scattered applause, and then silence.
“Hmm,” said Nessa, refilling her glass. “Nice wine.”
“We’re all dressed up,” said Harald. “I thought it appropriate.”
She leaned back and crossed one arm over her chest as she considered him.
“What?”
“You, Harald.”
He shifted his weight. “What about me?”
“How quickly you’ve changed. I suppose I’m actively revising my opinion of you. It was… startling, and pleasing, to see you courted by Lady Melisende, even if she’s a dung-eating vulture.”
“I’m starting to get the impression that you don’t like her.”
“I hate anyone who thinks themselves smarter than everyone else, especially if they’re correct.”
“Then how do you tolerate Vic?”
She snorted.
“So you do hold her in high regard? Lady Melisende?”
“High regard? No. I loathe her even as I admire what she’s accomplished in so few years.”
“Which is?”
“House Celestara was always respected, but now it’s feared. She’s ruthless, which is why I agreed to accompany you tonight. Vic was correct. His presence would have been inappropriate, because if you detect his weakness, he’s too easy to manipulate.”
“He is?”
“Of course he is.” Nessa canted her head to one side. “He can’t help but preen and engage in games if flattered just so. Lady Melisende would have wrapped him around her finger within minutes.”
“He’s always seemed pretty astute to me.”
“Oh, he is. But he has a weakness for beautiful women who wield inordinate amounts of power. It’s how he allowed himself to become entangled with Countess Sonora. It’s why he’s tolerated my… deficiencies… for so long.”
“I see.” Harald considered. “Thank you for coming, by the way. You didn’t have to.”
“You made that clear.” She sipped her wine, smile mocking. “But what manner of friend would I have been if I dropped off our favorite little lamb at the slaughter house?”
“Ha,” said Harald. “I’m not completely defenseless.”
“No?” She affected pleasant surprise. “So you were appropriately suspicious of accompanying Lady Yseult into the dungeon?”
Harald frowned. “I should have been?”
“I told you House Celestara has grown feared, have I not? One of the reasons is because other raiding crews go missing when a House Celestara Gold-team goes below.”
Harald leaned forward. “You’re saying… wait. What?”
“Oh no,” sighed Nessa. “I guess he’s a lamb after all.”
“She murders other teams?”
“Nobody knows for sure. But I’ve heard of a half-dozen respected Silver-ranked teams going missing while Yseult’s crew is in the dungeon.”
“And you’re saying she’d kill me if I didn’t agree to join while below?”
“It’s entirely possible. But more likely, she’d make you complicit in some kind of atrocity with which to blackmail you into joining.”
Harald thought of Lady Yseult, her stern manner, her courteous elegance. “I can’t see it.”
“Oh, then never mind. If Harald Darrowdelve in all his wicked experience can’t imagine it, then surely it can’t be true.”
“So why did you let me go if you knew it to be just one big trap?”
“Because you couldn’t outright refuse.” She finished her glass and he refilled it when she held it out. “You know that. The trick is to enter that couch-humping slut’s den and emerge with all your fingers. Hence my presence. I played the part of the lightning rod so that you would be spared the worst.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I know how unpleasant it was for you.”
“Ha.” Her eyes flashed. “You’ve no idea. But had I not, you would have found yourself tentatively agreeing to all manner of obligations, the consequences of which you can’t foresee. Josse would have hectored and bullied you into making some kind of statement, Lady Yseult would have nobly seduced you into lowering your guard, and then Melisende would have wrapped you around her little finger while praising how strong and manly you are.” She smirked bitterly. “Hence Lady Ermarine acting like a dose of piss in their offered glass of wine. I knocked everything askew so that you could slip through her grasp without compromising yourself.”
“Well. My thanks.” He finished his glass and refilled it, only to find the bottle empty. The tender, who’d been hovering close by, placed a new bottle on the table and whisked the dead one away. “So Melisende was lying about looking out for Flutic’s future?”
“Only insofar as she failed to mention how she believes her House should be the only one left standing once the dust settles, and she the new Queen of Flutic.”
“Queen?” Harald stared at Nessa. “No.”
“No? What else would you call a singular ruler of the entire city who dictates policy as she thinks best?”
“Huh.” He slumped back in his seat. “You’re right. She didn’t mention that.”
“Shocking. Here’s a cheat sheet for how to handle all the Houses: they’re one and all full of shit. There. That’s all you need know.”
“Succinct.”
“But accurate. You don’t survive in Flutic if you’ve a charitable bone in your body politic.”
“Drakenhart expends a lot of energy ensuring the streets remain peaceful.”
“’Honor Above All’. Is it any wonder that Sir Gavriel Draken is pitied even as his House continues to hemorrhage power and wealth? No, darling; House Drakenhart is the exception that proves the rule: expend energy on anything but cutthroat survival at your peril.”
Harald frowned. “You agreed to work for Countess Sonora.”
Nessa’s smile was cutting. “Haven’t you noticed? I have a weakness for helpless lambs. It’s my downfall.”
“I thought you were going to flatter me.”
“I’m sitting here, am I not? Dressed at my most elegant and seductive, sharing a bottle of wine?” She arched a dark brow. “You should be flattered.”
Harald grinned. “The old me would have been thrilled speechless.”
“But the new?”
Harald held her dark gaze, his pulse racing. “Just sad that you don’t mean anything that you say.”
She didn’t look away, her glass pressed to her lower lip, her gaze speculative. “Are you sure?”
“That you don’t mean it, or that I’m sad?”
“That you regret my not being interested.”
“I…” Harald trailed off. Was he? In the darkness of The Black Note, Nessa’s beauty was riveting, electric. Her hair gleamed with blue tints, her dress hugged her form to perfection. A thousand times he’d dreamed of a night like this advancing to something more, her lips against his own as she laughed scornfully at his eagerness, her body in his arms, her laughter giving way to moans, to cries of need and passion.
If you’re a woman of low rank and a certain beauty at court, you can’t help but attract them like carrion does flies.
His ardor cooled.
He was still seeing her as the old Harald had. Wishing to possess her. To defy her expectations. To turn her mockery to adoration.
“No,” he said at last, voice soft. “I… I don’t need to state the obvious. You know it all too well. But these past few weeks, training with you, fighting with you as our delve captain… earning your respect. It’s come to mean much more to me than any of my past fantasies.”
Her gorgeous eyes were slightly narrowed, her expression inscrutable even as she flattened her bottom lip with the rim of her glass, rolling it slowly from side to side. Then abruptly he felt her unshod foot press between his legs, questing and finding him as he jolted upright.
“Are you so sure?” she purred, expression devilish and amused. “We’re both adults, Harald. You don’t want to slip into the alley out back and see how I’d look with my dress hiked up around my waist?”
His mouth had gone completely dry.
Her foot worked him with suggestive mastery.
A phrase came to him from nowhere, emerging from the fog of desire and shock in Sam’s voice: I think she’ll always be open to inviting corruption into her relationships.
For a second he hung transfixed in the balance, her foot massaging his rigid self, making it nearly impossible to think. Her gaze gleamed darkly, her smile crooked, amused.
But he wasn’t the man he’d once been.
With great deliberation he set his glass down, pushed his chair back, and rose to his feet.
Nessa raised a dark brow, expecting him to conform to her every expectation.
Which is why she looked so shocked when he extended his hand and said with sad courtesy, “Come, Nessa. It’s been a long evening. I think we should call it a night.”
It was in the way he said it.
There was no doubting his refusal.
Her face flushed, her brow furrowed, and then she laughed, tossed back the rest of the wine, and stood. “Yes, of course.”
Harald dropped scales on the table, extended his arm to her, and together they left The Black Note.
Desire burned within his core like a raging bonfire, but his will was absolute. His body suffered sweet torment, but he clamped down on his imagination, his weakness, his desire.
She didn’t desire him. She merely craved destruction.
And what they had going was far too precious for him to throw away.
Nessa walked stiffly beside him as they searched for a carriage. She wouldn’t even glance in his direction. Her arm was tense, her jaw clenched.
What had happened to her? What depths of pain had she suffered to crave ever more?
One day, he’d ask.
One day, when he’d truly earned her trust, he would find out.
Comments
Taylor
I’ve been wondering how he was going to address the fact that his crew goes through armor like toilet paper. Maybe now we have our standard dwarven blacksmith to make them increasingly good armor as they get deeper in the dungeon.
Mark Timmony
Ok, I couldn’t resist checking out this chapter. If we aren’t getting XP or level gains the least Harald could do is collect the scales left behind…
Amber Gregory
Yay, dwarf party member. This was a really nice contrast to the gloominess of the last chapter. Even though what happened to Karsek is sad, Harald being in a position to help him is really nice
Amber Gregory
What's wrong with the park, Harald?
Hailhound
I’ve noticed it too. Not only are there no pure spells and everything is enhancements, and mostly personal ones at that, but there’s pretty much no ranged fighters. That somewhat makes some sense because iirc the first 25ish levels are all in tunnels and corridors and classic dungeon areas. But we know that at some point it widens out to full biomes, where ranged attackers would be incredibly useful. It’s interesting to me that we haven’t seen any yet. Maybe it’s just the rich houses and factions that have the ability to carry ranged fighters through their training on the lower levels before they come into their own? Or maybe the fallen angle just doesn’t give any out.
ShivaMcTimber
Most characters seem to be physical combat focused buffed and using magic. Are there any straight up mages/spellcasters in this world? Glass cannons, pure healers? Or are they all a mix of weapons and spells? If this has already been mentioned, sorry - I am reading about 15 different authors on Patreon and RR and may have just gotten mixed up.
ShivaMcTimber
The expression on Sam's face when he suggests doing the morning run on level 4 is going to be priceless.
Ale
Dwarf ✅
Adam Roberts
Yah think he just unlocked the Dwarven Defender DLC.
Hailhound
New party member just dropped?
