The Consuls of the Vicariate amob-2

by Brian Kittrell

  “The citadel, too? Oh, this is wondrous news. I shall gather my men, and we’ll be off as quick as a flash.” Piers jogged toward the hall, then stopped and turned. “As for this place, the church may keep it. Make it a place of charity and community, for the betterment of the people.”

  Jurgen smiled as Piers left. “I’m thankful for you, Sorcerer.”

  “Thankful for me?” Laedron asked. “I’ve accomplished little compared to you.”

  “Without you, I would have abandoned this land to the iron grip of the Drakars. The war would have lasted years, and the theocracy would likely have been destroyed completely. You and your friends instilled in me the will to do what is right. For that, and for you, I am thankful.”

  What a strange position I find myself in, Laedron thought. I have helped to save the same church that not long ago would have seen me dead.

  “You’re welcome,” Laedron said, giving Jurgen a grin.

  Jurgen approached the door. “Ready yourselves for the morrow, my friends. We shall revel in your triumph and honor you. Oh, and one other thing.” Jurgen tossed a small leather sack, and Laedron caught it. “Visit a tailor and tell him you need something to wear for the ceremony. Keep the difference for whatever else you may need.” Then, he left.

  Piers returned with a crate in his arms and a pack on his back. “Care to come with us?”

  Laedron nodded. “Of course. Let us get our things.”

  * * *

  Piers led Caleb and his men through the streets, and Laedron had never seen him in a more pleasant mood. Every street corner they passed seemed to instill more confidence in Piers until they arrived at a massive stone structure topped by a silver metallic dome.

  “This is it,” Piers said. “Our old headquarters, our headquarters once again at long last.”

  Along the exterior, carvings of the mark of the Order of the Shimmering Dawn were prominently displayed. Two huge oaken doors stood at the entrance, and they had been left standing open. Entering the great hall, Laedron passed a number of militia soldiers. Beyond the troops, he noticed exquisitely vibrant tapestries, which matched the thick runner laid along the center of the floor. He tried to recall if even the Westmarch keep, the primary headquarters of the order, could match the splendor of the place.

  “They left it intact. No, they even made a few repairs,” Piers said, glancing around. He set down his crate and pointed. “Remember the crack at the top of that column? It’s gone.”

  Caleb nodded. “Seems they’ve fixed the holes in the dome, too. Not a beam of light coming through.”

  “I wonder…” Piers ran to the back. Laedron and the others struggled to keep up.

  Piers flung a door wide, and Laedron peered over his shoulder. With gleaming armor and weapon stands abounding, the room clearly housed the order’s arms.

  Entering the room, Piers exhibited a wide grin. “We shall be able to restore ourselves to our former glory and equip our members properly. Today is a great day indeed.”

  “You’ll be more careful this time, won’t you?” Laedron asked.

  “What are you inferring?”

  “Only that a traitor got in, that’s all. Are you forgetting Lester?”

  Piers’s eyes shifted shamefully. “Taking in Lester and some of the others we wouldn’t have normally was a matter of necessity. With many of our men jailed or slain, we had to replenish our numbers. Aside from that, yes. We will take far better care in the future.”

  “Good. I would hate to see you undone by the likes of another like Lester. For men like that, only an appropriate amount of gold would stand between you and a knife in your back.”

  “Point taken,” Piers said, “but let us not swim in the mistakes of the past.”

  Laedron nodded. “Very well. Are we invited to stay until we leave?”

  Piers tilted his head. “Of course. I would never deny my brothers in arms. The residences are on the second and third floors, and you have your pick of living spaces until you leave. We won’t begin recruiting for days yet, and we’ll be sending news abroad for traveling knights.”

  “Traveling knights?” Marac asked.

  “The Heraldan chapter prefers a good mix of nationalities in our number. It keeps us from being dominated too heavily in favor of one religion or political standing, and the Dawn Knights must remain loyal to themselves above all others.”

  “I think the place is in good hands,” Laedron said, patting Piers on the shoulder. “You’ve seen the order through some rough times, and I can see you leading your chapter through the flames of the hells, no matter how hot.”

  “Thank you, Sorcerer.” Piers looked past them when more men entered from the main door. “If you’ll excuse me, we have things to attend.”

  Laedron watched Piers go over to the newcomers, and said, “Let’s visit our new lodgings. Then we should go visit a tailor like Jurgen recommended.”

  “What sort of clothes do you think he’ll prefer us to wear?” Brice asked.

  Laedron shrugged, then opened the leather pouch Jurgen had given him. His jaw dropped when he saw the contents: two coins stamped with the Azuran Star and the words, “Platinum One,” repeated around the perimeter.

  “What’s in there?” Marac asked.

  Laedron slowly shook his head. In Sorbia, minted coins made of platinum were a myth, a fable told to young children to flood their minds with amazement and awe. Rumors abounded that the Sorbian treasury possessed such coins, and no one other than the king could be allowed to enter that forbidden chamber. To Laedron, platinum coins lay at the base of any nation’s wealth, and they were never used in trading.

  Taking the coin from the pouch, Laedron held it up for their inspection.

  “Well, that answers that,” Marac said. “Either he doesn’t expect much from us or you can get some nice clothing for a silver piece in these parts.”

  “No.” Laedron held the coin closer to Marac’s eye. “Platinum.”

  Brice gasped, then he and Valyrie crowded close around Laedron’s hand.

  “He gave us a whole platinum to get clothes?” Marac asked.

  Laedron pulled out the other coin. “Two.”

  “Two!” Brice yelled, hardly able to contain himself. For a moment, Laedron thought Brice might faint from the sudden excitement.

  Piers glanced back at them, apparently alerted by Brice’s loudness, and Laedron hid the coins back in the pouch. I can’t trust even Piers to know that we now possess two whole platinum coins, regardless of our relationship.

  “Quiet, you,” Laedron whispered, glaring at Brice. “We don’t want anyone finding out that we’re carrying two platinum pieces. Do you know how much these are worth?”

  “Of course. They’re worth two platinums.” Marac nudged Laedron and laughed.

  Laedron rolled his eyes, and Marac said, “Oh, Lae, you should’ve seen your face. You were awfully serious.”

  “And for good reason. Never mind.” Laedron tucked the pouch into his waistband. “Let’s find a tailor. Know of any, Val?”

  “For that kind of money? Only the Best.”

  “Yes, but where?”

  “Only the Best.”

  Laedron blinked his eyes rapidly. “Yes, but where?”

  “That’s the name of the place. Only the Best is where.”

  He sighed. “All right. Take us there, then.”

  * * *

  Well, she didn’t lie. Laedron studied the ornate placard in front of the tailor’s shop. Judging by the people walking in and out of the establishment, he reckoned that the business had earned its namesake because only those with deep pockets utilized the service.

  Upon entering, they were immediately eyed by a man behind the counter. The portly man’s walk was more of a waddle as he approached, his fat finger outstretched at them. “If you’re looking for a privy, we have none for the public. Best see your way out the way you came.”

  “Is this how you treat all of your customers?” Laedron asked.

  Th
e man scoffed and tried to keep his measuring tape from falling off his shoulder. “I have no time for games, young fellow. Can you not see that I am busy? Now, see your way out.”

  “I was told that you were the finest tailor in Azura. I suppose we’ll have to bring our platinum elsewhere.”

  “Platinum?” The man shook his head, looking at their clothing. “The likes of you with a platinum? I think not. Quit wasting my time.”

  Laedron produced the coin. “I suppose you lost out on a sale, my good man. Let’s go.”

  “Wait, wait, wait! Don’t be so hasty,” the tailor said, waving his hands. “I’m busy, but I can take orders. Come, come.” He returned to the counter.

  Laedron grinned, then relaxed his face when the man turned around.

  “So, my good people…” The tailor opened a ledger. “By when would you require your clothing?”

  “Tonight,” Laedron replied.

  “Impossible.”

  “Impossible? Then we must find somewhere else to go.”

  “Wait, please. Let me explain.”

  Laedron folded his arms. “If you’re too busy, then we must seek our wares at another shop. No amount of explaining will change that.”

  “I’m busy with alterations. Don’t you see?” The tailor gestured at the numerous mannequins standing around the room. “There shall be a ceremony tomorrow, and all of my customers are vying to get their best suits altered in a hurry.”

  “What sort of ceremony?”

  “Why, the consulship has announced an end to the war, and they have released this paper here. They’ve gotten the whole city in an uproar.”

  The man slid a poster across the counter, and Laedron read it aloud.

  To All Citizens of Azura,

  Your Holy Consulship Commands your Respect at a Ceremony to Honor Heroes and Celebrate the Peace. Respond Ye to your Steward with Haste and Reserve your Place.

  The Azuran Star with vines and flowers appeared below the inscription, and the bottom of the poster contained details of the ceremony and the following feast.

  “Then, you had better get your needle and thread ready, friend,” Laedron said, returning the poster. “We are the heroes of which this notice speaks.”

  “You?” the man asked, his chubby face filled with surprise.

  “Yes. Think of it, if you will. All of Azura was present to witness… what’s your name?”

  “Manfred. Manfred Shoffe… well, Manny is fine.”

  “All of Azura was present to witness Manny Shoffe’s fine garments draping the backs of the heroes who saved us in our darkest of times,” Laedron said, gesturing grandly for effect. Manny clasped his hands and peered upward as if seeing the possibilities.

  When he could see a stack of gold sovereigns behind the tailor’s eyes, Laedron asked, “You think you’re busy now? Imagine the patronage you might receive after such a claim.”

  “All right, all right,” Manny said, snatching the tape from his shoulder. “I’ll fix you up fine. I don’t have time to make anything from scratch, but you’re all lean enough to fit some of my back stock.”

  “Back stock? Old fashions?” Laedron asked.

  “No, no. They’re in style, but not entirely custom. I’m sure they’ll be quite fetching.”

  “How much is all of this going to cost?”

  “The four of you? You did hold up a platinum-”

  “And we saved the city, you understand.”

  Manny frowned as if the thought of a discount was abhorrent. “Fine, fine. Three-quarters a platinum, then. Seventy-five sovereigns, which means I’ll give you twenty-five back.”

  “Seventy-five?”

  Manny gave him a firm look. “That barely accounts for the materials and my hours of labor. Seventy-five is far cheaper than the regular rate.”

  “Fine, fine. Here you are.” Laedron handed over the platinum coin and received the difference. The gold gleamed nearly as bright as the platinum, and he remembered the days when even the sight of a gold coin would pique his interest in the one possessing it. Holding twenty-five gold coins and still having another platinum in his pouch, he was richer than he ever had been, even with splitting the entire purse four ways. Opening the pouch, Laedron dropped the coins into it with a pleasant jingle.

  “Who’s first, then?” Manny asked.

  Laedron raised his hand. “I’ll go first.”

  “Very well.” Manny turned to the back of the shop. “Larson!”

  A boy came running up the aisle. “Yes?”

  “Fetch my wife, boy. Tell her the shopping can wait. And my daughter if she’s there. We’ll need everyone we can muster to get these orders finished on time.”

  “Yes, sire,” the boy replied, then ran out the front door.

  Manny turned back to Laedron. “Come along, and we’ll see if we can find you something suitable.”

  * * *

  After toiling with Manny for an hour, Laedron returned to the front parlor of the shop, wearing the fine coat and pants the tailor had fitted for him. He had never worn crimson, but the dark red vest accented the black coat and the white silk shirt.

  “You clean up nicely, Laedron Telpist.” Marac stood. “I suppose I should go next.”

  “While I’m fitting him, change back into your other clothes carefully,” Manny said, pointing at Laedron. “I’ll need to alter the clothes, and my marks were made with great precision.”

  By the time Laedron finished changing clothes, Marac had been fitted and Brice was already in the back with Manny. “That was quick.”

  “You like it?” Marac asked.

  Looking at the light blue vest and the tan overcoat, Laedron smiled. “Very nice.”

  “He had this one already done. Said a nobleman requested it, then cancelled the order at the last minute.” Marac stretched out his arms. “It’s a little snug, but it fits well.”

  “That it does,” Laedron said, then turned when the curtain flew open to reveal Brice.

  Brice shook his head and paced through the parlor. “I don’t like it.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” Manny chased after him, still trying to take a measurement of the sleeve. “Will you hold still?”

  “I’ve made a pair of pants or two in my time,” Brice replied, kicking his legs. “These will never fit.”

  “Trust me, would you? If you would just hold on, I will show you.”

  Brice sighed, freezing in place. Manny manipulated the pants around the waist, then tugged at the back around the knee. “Any better?”

  “Yes, but how did-”

  “Secrets of the trade. I can’t give everything away, can I?” Manny pinned the pants. “Now, get changed so I might get started on her dress.”

  Brice disappeared behind the curtain, and Manny put his hands on his hips. “What colors do you prefer, miss?”

  “Violet and pink, if you’re able. I’ve always favored those,” Valyrie said.

  Manny glanced at the ceiling and tapped his chin with a finger. “It could take some time, but we’ll find a way. The rest of you have a little wait on your hands.”

  “We’ll remain here,” Laedron replied. “She sat peacefully through our fittings, so we shall wait through hers.”

  “If you wish, but I’d at least recommend sending someone across to the tea house. Get me a pitcher all my own.” Manny handed Brice a silver piece as he came out from behind the changing curtain. “Dresses can take much longer to get perfect.”

  Laedron nodded and looked at Brice. “Do you mind?”

  “No, I could go for something to drink about now.”

  Valyrie followed Manny to the back, and Laedron and Marac sat on the tufted bench which ran along the front of the shop. Returning shortly with a pitcher of tea and some mugs, Brice took a seat with them.

  * * *

  Normally, Laedron would have become uncomfortable and drained from waiting so long, but Jurgen’s spell apparently held strong because Laedron felt fresh and eager regardless of how much time pass
ed. Marac had fallen asleep, and Brice, having plenty of open bench on his side, had lain down and stretched out.

  Manny came out and slid the curtain to the side, revealing Valyrie wearing a deep purple dress with soft pink trim. Speechless, Laedron leaned forward, taking in her beauty. Though she lacked a crown atop her head, he likened her appearance to that of a princess. The dress fit perfectly, accentuating every curve and the lines of her body.

  She did a quick twirl. “What do you think?”

  “Amazing,” Brice said.

  Marac roused from his slumber and stared at her with wide eyes. “Beautiful.”

  Laedron stood and took her hands in his. “I think it’s wonderful. Breathtaking.”

  She simpered, apparently embarrassed by their reactions. “Thank you.”

  “I’m surprised it fit so well. I’d planned to give that one to my daughter as a gift, but I have plenty of time to make another like it.” Manny tugged at the sides of the dress. “You’re very close to her size, close enough not to require any sweeping alterations, at any rate.”

  “You’ve certainly earned your keep,” Laedron said, giving Manny a grin. “I can see that your shop lives up to its name.”

  “Thank you.” Manny turned to Valyrie and gestured to the back room. “Lay it across the table when you’ve changed, and I’ll finish everything up by nightfall.”

  “We’ll send someone around to pick them up after dark, then.”

  Once Valyrie returned, Laedron led the way into the street. “Have we anything else to do?”

  Marac shook his head. “A good meal tonight and plenty of rest for tomorrow, I’d say. Beyond that, I can think of nothing.”

  Laedron smiled even though he knew that the next morning would come after another sleepless night. It could be worse. Combined with an inability to sleep, I could be fatigued all the time. At the very least, I feel wonderful, despite the fact that I feel unnatural.

  Arriving at the Shimmering Dawn, Laedron glimpsed a full table and said, “Looks as if the quality of the food has increased with the quality of the lodgings.”