by Eric Ugland
“A bit,” I said.
“I have given you a potion to boost your health temporarily. Hopefully that will give us time to get, uh, whatever these are, out of you.”
She ran her fingers over a tooth again, feeling the smoothness.
“Are you stable?” she asked.
“The dead body on my back is keeping me from falling over,” I said.
“I meant your health levels.”
I checked them quickly.
“Yes,” I said. “I think.”
She nodded. “I will need to get some tools.”
“Great,” I said, with the best smile I could muster.
She gave me a weak smile in return, and then hurried off.
Nikolai came rushing back with a string of soldiers behind him, each with large shields.
He had them form a protective barrier around me.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Bad for morale to see you like this,” Nikolai said.
“Really? Come on—”
“Children are coming outside to play. Would you—”
“Point taken. Hide me.”
“Of course, your grace.”
The healer came back shortly with Zoey, the smith.
Working together, they drilled holes in the teeth, and then pushed thin metal wires through them. Then, with all the delicacy of a woman who forges steel, Zoey yanked the wires, and the teeth, one by one.
Each tooth came out in a spurt of blood, and often with some of my flesh as well. Like the teeth were stuck to my insides. It was not the most pleasant of mornings.
Finally, though, after who knows how long, the last tooth came out, and there was a glorious wave of pain as my boon finally kicked in and I started patching up.
The healer, Thomasina Harding, had a healing potion all ready to go, but Nikolai held her back from administering it.
“I am sure his grace is more than capable of healing himself now,” Nikolai said.
“I mean,” I said, doing my best to keep my hands from shaking, “I wouldn—”
“Your grace,” Nikolai said, “I hesitate to burden you with—”
“What is it?”
“There are some new guests you need to meet.”
“The centaurs?”
“Have you not already met the centaurs?”
“I mean, we had a vague interaction, but—”
“Lord Northwoods has arrived to spend Fiends’ Night with his family.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Sadly, no.”
“Those are his wagons coming?”
“He did manage to bring a few things with him.”
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.”
“Yes, your grace.”
I tried to run my hand through my hair, but, well, I didn’t have any hair and I was wearing a helmet, so I kind of just hit myself in the face.
“Don’t suppose there is time for a shower?” I asked.
“It would likely be best if we made time,” Nikolai said. “Zoey, might you get this armor off of him?”
“All things considered,” Zoey said, looking at the ruined armor, “probably best if he took it off in the shower. Lots of blood, and some might be stuck to him. Better to get some water on it to loosen everything up.”
“Ah. Yes.”
“Did Amber and crew arrive healthy?” I asked. I trudged toward MountainHome’s main entrance.
“Yes, your grace,” Nikolai said. “They were not happy that I refused to send out the Legion or the guard, but I felt you had this in hand. Or, if it was something that had managed to kill you, it would likely put quite the dent in our forces.”
“I’m glad you’re thinking of me first.”
“Would you prefer I think of your life, or the several thousand souls you’ve brought together here?”
“I know, just a rough morning.”
“It would seem so,” he said. “What was it you faced?”
“The goblins are getting tricky,” I said. “The camp was an ambush. And they also unleashed these creatures called florgs—”
“I have seen them before. Not quite that big though.”
“The ones at camp were small. Swarm florgs. Then there were big ones called Hunter florgs.”
“Interesting. It is possible the goblins have been breeding the florgs to a purpose. I will ask Timurlan to look at the corpses you have brought back, see what he might glean from them.”
“Thanks. Yeah, there should be more corpses in the knapsack, which Ragnar should have.”
Nikolai nodded and made a little note in his little notebook.
“Essie and Harmut assure me they will have rooms ready for the centaurs later today,” Nikolai said, reading from the notebook. “They completed a ballroom, which will have to double as our eating chambers for the Homing.”
“The Homing?”
“The various rites and rituals which will make MountainHome a home.”
“Got it.”
“Lord Northwoods has been, well, less than eager to accept temporary accommodations.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he smiles a lot and then yells at Lady Northwoods for us being incompetent.”
“How many bodies did he bring?”
“Well, there is him. His son—”
“His son came?”
“It would appear so.”
“Great.”
“Then there is the lord his son squires for, the lord’s wife and daughter, five bodyguards for Lord Northwoods, and twenty house guard. Then six members of his household staff.”
“So that’s nearly forty people?”
“Nearly, yes. Also—”
“More?”
“Yes. More. Lord Northwoods’ brothers are here. And their families.”
“Well, fuck.”
“Indeed.”
“How many?”
“Twenty-two more.”
“Sixty-two total?”
“Not exactly, but thereabouts.”
“Why not exactly?”
“Because you guessed on your initial count and weren’t correct there.”
“Fine. How are we on beds?”
“Very low.”
“You want to give Northwoods my apartment?”
“No.”
“But—”
“You are the duke,” Nikolai said firmly, ushering me into MountainHome. “You need to act like it.”
“I am acting like it,” I said. “I’m trying to be a good host.”
“Your grace—”
“Ah, the host arrives!” boomed out Lord Northwoods voice.
I sighed.
We had walked into the main hallway between the exit and the throne room, and who should come down the stairs from one of the residential areas but Lord Northwoods and his crew.
Northwoods looked fantastic. He had on a dark blue fur cloak trimmed in a perfect white. His pants were clearly tailored to his form, his boots were spotless, and he’d oiled his hair and slicked it back. His face was clean shaven, and he had a healthy glow to him.
I looked down at myself.
My steel armor was mismatched and more closely resembled a cheese grater. Blood, both my own plus goblin and florg and, well, other, covered me from head to toe. And let’s not even mention all the bonus organic substances on me, like the poop and saliva, ichor and bile, bits of flesh and bobs of, well, other stuff. My eyes were probably bloodshot. I felt like my nose had been running. And I knew I had to stink.
“Lord Northwoods,” I said, “allow me to welcome you to Coggeshall.”
“I see you have been hunting,” Northwoods said.
“I, uh, sure, hunting.”
“The quarry turned out to be more difficult than you thought, eh?”
“Sharper teeth.”
Northwoods laughed, and got closer to look at a hole in my chest. Then he wrinkled his nose and put a delicate lace handkerchief in front of his face and took a few steps back.
“One must wonder what is in this valley of yours,” he said.
“Still trying to figure that out myself. I take it you are here for Fiends’ Night?”
“I am! My daughter mentioned you were unwilling to allow her even the short travel to her home, and I could not allow her to be alone on such a night—”
“I’d hardly consider a stay in Coggeshall to be alone,” I said, gesturing to all the people moving around us.
“Ah, but there is little quite like being with family on Fiends’ night.”
“I mean, you’ve got me there. I think.”
“I look forward to what you have planned. I hear some interesting things.”
“I’m sure I do have interesting things planned,” I replied, and glanced over at Nikolai.
He shrugged.
“Or we can find some interesting things to do. I’m a fun guy,” I said. “Like mushrooms.”
“Mushrooms, your grace?” Northwoods asked.
“Fungi.”
“Ah.”
“Little joke.”
“Indeed, your grace.”
“I think I should be off to, you know, clean up.”
“I was hoping you might give me a tour of your holding.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” I said, looking over at Nikolai, who was definitely trying to shake his head. “Let me take a shower and get this armor off, and then we’ll, uh, take a stroll.”
“I will eagerly await you, your grace.”
I gave the man a quick nod, and then started walking up the staircase.
Most everyone moved out of my way, quite a ways out of my way, actually. I noticed I was leaving gruesome footprints behind.
Nikolai came right along behind me.
As soon as I was out of sight, I heard an immense amount of whispering going on. I sighed, hating all the court nonsense I had to put up with. Still, it could be worse. At least as the top dog present, I didn’t have to play too much of the game. I could just be myself and weather their insults.
33
When I got to my room, I found it occupied. And not just by Emeline, who was reading a book on my bed, but also by Ragnar and Skeld.
They looked me over, and shook their heads.
“You should not have attempted that fight on your own,” Skeld said.
“It was fine,” I replied. “I was fine.”
“Montana,” Ragnar said, but I held a hand up.
“There’s no need for admonishment,” I said. “It was a hard fight, but I’m not sure what you guys might have done to change that.”
“Given you access to your bag,” Ragnar said, pointing to the knapsack sitting on my dresser.
“True, that would have been useful, but—”
“Oddly,” Nikolai said, interrupting us, “I believe I fall in the camp supporting our duke here. From what I have seen, it would have been a fatal fight for anyone else.”
I nodded, then paused.
“Any chance you’d be willing to help me out of my armor?” I asked.
“No,” Ragnar said. “That’s disgusting.”
Then he pivoted, whipping his tail out behind him, and stalked out of the room.
“He’s angry,” Skeld said.
“I can tell,” I replied.
“I’m not particularly happy myself.”
“I don’t want to have this conversation again,” I said, stomping into my bathroom and unleashing the torrent of water.
I didn’t bother to take anything off — I just got under the waterfall.
Don’t get me wrong: I loved my shower. But calling it a shower is, well, misleading. It’s definitely more water than would ever be useful, and I’m not sure anyone other than myself could stand up against the beating of the water.
I let the blood and guts and bonus bits get pressure-washed off the steel of my armor. After barely a minute under the water, and I could feel the armor loosening up, no longer sticking in odd places.
I stepped out of the torrent and pulled the helm off, tossing it to one side, where it clanked around.
“This tour,” Nikolai said.
I jumped, slipped on the wet rock, and barely kept my balance. Nikolai was leaning against the wall just outside the splash range of my shower, his notebook out.
“Fuck, man,” I said. “What are you doing in here?”
“Speaking with you,” Nikolai said. “The tour.”
“Can’t I have some privacy?”
“No. There is no time for that right now.”
“No time for privacy?”
“No, your grace. The tour.”
“Fuck, fine. Tour.”
I summoned prinkies upon prinkies until there was little extra space in the bathroom. I had them pull the armor off, then cart it down to Zoey. The prinkies weren’t huge fans of getting wet, but considering how much they reveled in accomplishing assigned tasks, they eagerly waded into the shower, losing their footing on the way. Then they’d get rolled around in the shower torrent until I pulled them free. At which point, they’d be dizzy and stumble around. Notably, they would also shake like dogs to get the water off their voluminous fur.
The whole thing made Nikolai rather irritated. And, for me, that was worth everything.
“It would not be wise to show Lord Northwoods every aspect of our holding,” Nikolai said.
“He’s supposed to be our ally,” I replied, pulling a vambrace off and tossing it to a waiting yellow prinky.
“Northwoods is loyal to his family first, the Empire second, and you, at best would be a distant third. Though I imagine there are quite a few other allies in between you and him.”
“So?”
“So I do not trust him.”
“Come on,” I said. “He’s been fine.”
“Being fine does not mean he is worth showing all our secrets to.”
“What secrets are we keeping from him then?”
“The farms.”
“The farms are awesome.”
“Agreed, but he need not know about them. Let him think we get our food from—”
“He’s going to know.”
“How?”
“We’re having a few big meals together as one home, right?”
“Of course.”
“You think people won’t be talking about the food then?”
“I doubt he will speak to anyone—”
“If he doesn’t, his people certainly will. He’s not dumb. He’ll have his guards talk to our guards to find out everything they can.”
“Also Eliza,” Emeline called from the doorway. “She knows about the farms.”
“How do you know to show up when I get naked?” I asked, realizing I didn’t even have a towel nearby. For a heartbeat I considered using a prinky to cover my jiggly bits, but decided that was a line I didn’t want to cross.
“I’ve been here the whole time,” she said with a smile. She walked carefully between the prinkies and hopped up to sit on the counter.
“I suppose the two of you make some good points,” Nikolai said, tapping his pencil on his notebook. “You may show him the farms if he asks, but, perhaps, find a way to keep Timurlan from expressing exactly what he is.”
“Timurlan isn’t exactly talkative,” I said.
“He is becoming more comfortable here,” Nikolai said, “and becoming more social. He is proud of the farms he has built, and deservedly so. But it also means he’s been eager to talk about what he has done and why. I would prefer your safe harbor for magic users to remain as much of a secret as possible.”
“Ugh,” I said, leaning back against the wall for a moment. Then I walked all the way under the water so I didn’t have to hear Emeline and Nikolai talking. Better to just let them figure out this nonsense than try to argue about it with them.
There is something special about the shower, for me at least. It’s always been a place of thought for me. Of peace. And this shower, which could fully envelop me, was especially so. Made sense it would be invaded.
34
The water parted like a curtain to reveal a lush darkness beyond.
I stood rooted to my own world, staring at the opening and trying to figure out what the fuck was happening. I idly wondered if there was a way to install a spear stand in the shower itself.
Vague hints of vanilla wafted through the opening.
I didn’t move.
“Will you get in here already,” Mister Paul shouted out.
I sighed, and walked into the darkness, which sort of draped around me like it was real, and weighted, and then pulled away from me. All of a sudden I was wearing dark purple velvet robes and walking in what looked like a smoking lounge from Edwardian times. Which, why did I know what Edwardian times looked like?
Mister Paul was sitting in an overstuffed armchair, swirling a snifter of brandy in one hand. A fire crackled in the fireplace while rain crashed against the windows.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Seat?” Mister Paul replied, avoiding my question and pointing to the chair opposite him.
I sat down. It was, indeed, a comfortable chair.
“Nice robes, thank you,” I said.
“Thought it might be uncomfortable for you to be naked in here,” Mister Paul said, grinning.
“A bit, yes.”
“Yes, well, as much as the viewers appreciate your body on display, I doubt they are watching here, and so—”
“Viewers?”
“Now, Montana of Coggeshall, I believe it has been a minute since we last spoke.”
“Not that long. A few days.”
“Feels like months.”
“Is that because you’re so enamored with me?”
“Likely,” he said. He winked at me and took a sip of his brandy. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Um, sure.”
Mister Paul picked up a little bell and rang it.
“Now,” Mister Paul said, “I must ask if you’ve chosen your magic building.”
“No,” I said. “Still working on that.”
He gritted his teeth, but forced a smile. “My dear boy, it would really be better if you sped things up just a little.”
“I’m going as fast as I can.”
“Are you though?”
“I think so.”
“Try harder.”
“Give me some clues on what I should be doing.”
“Growing in power.”
