Lake Merrin

by Samuel Colbran

  “And?”

  Pain in the arse! “Never let the spoon touch the bottom, okay!”

  “Now the second course.”

  “A fish meal. If you find bones, leave them to the side of the plate. Make sure that you do not make too much noise when eating and eat with your mouth closed.” I look over at Gunnar. “Can you handle that, Gunnar?”

  “Better than you can, Halfy!”

  “Another thing: no nicknames or slights at the dinner table. There could be others of Elven heritage at the table and that would insult them.” As if Phillip has to remind us.

  “Sure thing, Phil. Go on, Master Solo,” Gunnar says sarcastically, grinning.

  Pointing at all the relevant plates and cutlery as I list off, “Next is a pastry of some sort, pheasant, then a vegetable dish, followed by roast beef. Fingers are to be washed using the dish of water on the table and dried using the linen napkin, which will be replaced with every dish. And that is it, right?”

  Stillwater is smiling at me. “Good work, Lone.” She adds, “Finally, we have dessert with an ice treat to refresh us afterwards. Then the Iron Medal of Bravery is presented.”

  “Yes, that is everything. Good, I will adjourn and tell Father when he returns from his patrol.”

  “Hang on, is the Duke not arriving today?”

  “That is true. My mother is showing him around. There won’t be any problems, however, with the Order of the Duke's Shield guarding them. Please remember everything we covered this afternoon so you conduct yourself appropriately tonight.”

  I have to ask. “So, being the Count's son—” He nods at me. “—why were you in charge of giving us directions?”

  “Very simple, Master Solo. My father wanted to provide you with a brief education on appropriate behaviour. He understands that your background is not … You’re not … used to this sort of—”

  “What he’s trying to say is that you’re gutter trash, Halfy, and you don't know how to hold a fork or—”

  “That’s enough, Gunnar!” Stillwater is more forceful than my old sergeant. “I'm so sorry, Lord—Page Isenhart. I can assure you this will not occur at dinner. We will be civil and appropriate at all times, as you instructed.” She turns back to us. “Do I make myself clear?”

  Even though she looks beautiful in that dress, I could never mistake Stillwater for some girl. She scares the wits out of me. Gunnar goes white and nods.

  “Of course, Joan! I will be on my best behaviour.” I give her one of my debonair smiles. “Page Phillip Isenhart, is there anything else we need to know?”

  “We don't expect you to be perfect, as long as you don't stand out. I think that should be it. I will send someone for you shortly. See you at dinner.” He gives a brisk bow and leaves.

  Stillwater’s face is very angry. “You two! Can't you just be nice to each other for tonight? I mean, bloody Abyssus, I want to punch you both so hard!”

  That is something I do not want to happen to me. I like the look of my face, and one day Pela might too. However, Gunnar’s could use improvement.

  “Sorry, boss. Just looking at him drives me mad. I know how important tonight is. I will ignore his stupidity and face for one night.”

  Wow, thank you for that sacrifice! Stillwater is looking at me. “I will not antagonise Gunnar tonight either. What about WayWocket? He has been licking that spoon for the last ten minutes.”

  Stillwater looks over, and WayWocket stops mid-lick. He smiles and puts down the spoon. “Shiny spoon fifty-three percent silver; twenty-eight percent iron; eighteen percent copper; zero point four-two carbon; and zero point five-eight percent impurities. Hmm, not high enough.” Picks up another spoon and starts licking it. “More silver and copper; less iron.”

  “Way, put down the spoons!” Stillwater is trying not to laugh; I am already, and Gunnar joins in too. “It’s silver cutlery, Way. What’s not high enough?”

  “Should be purer, at least—” Licks both spoons, looks at Stillwater. “—thirty percent on average. Why are these not right?”

  “What does it matter?”

  Having no idea what they are talking about, I look over at Gunnar. He is as bewildered as me. “If it is light, then it has disappeared! But you cannot destroy matter, only transform it.”

  “I think I know what he is talking about.” Stillwater and Gunnar look at me doubtfully. I do not really know, but it has triggered a memory. “I remember something like coin shaving, where they take coins and cut metal off.”

  “I don't see the—”

  “Like he said! But not coins—spoons!” WayWocket just interrupted Stillwater; never seen that before! “Not shaving—reforging.”

  “Okay, okay, Way. We'll look into it soon, but first, we have to deal with Zlata and her mess. I promise, once that is over we'll report your findings.” He just smiles and goes back to staring off into the distance.

  Gunnar says, “So, boss, what is the plan now? How long till we have to head to the ballroom?”

  “Probably won’t be too long till they send for us.”

  Well, I am bored. “That is it, I am going to have a little look around.”

  As I am about to hop up, Stillwater grabs me. “Absolutely not! We are going to stay here and cause no problems. Last thing we need is for you to do something stupid and get thrown out before we can talk to the Count.”

  Gunnar shakes his head. “No pouting, half—Master Solo. Soon you’ll be a big hero!”

  “At least I did something heroic.”

  “That’s enough!” I don't know if Stillwater is nervous, tired, or just irritated. “I’ll let it slide, Lone, but you have no idea what Gunnar has done in the past, and really, you wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for him. Just remember that.”

  I hate this; always being put in my place. I am just going to shut up for a while. Even though I agree with this plan, I am not sure if it is going to work. I mean, really, even if I get this medal, that does not guarantee that we will get face time with the Count.

  There they are, planning plans. Trying to figure out the next ten steps, assuming the first will happen. Damn, I need a drink.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Journal Entry Three continued …

  That is when we found out about 'The Great Spoon Theft'! Well it was not as glamorous as that, but we were paid quite a few slips for discovering the spoon thieves ...

  We have been sitting in silence for the last while. Sometimes I wish I had one of those rich men's timepieces. No drinks or food in this room. Wish I had eaten something earlier. Gunnar and Stillwater are still thick as thieves, planning and plotting how they are going to tell Count Darel about our findings. And WayWocket is just mixing liquids. No idea where he was hiding them in his outfit. I guess that is his sobering potion. I wonder if that helps with hangovers too?

  “So, Halfy, do you understand your part?”

  Was I just asked a direct question by Gunnar? “Um, sure I do. It is simple. I use my medal to set up a meeting with the Count at a later date, and that is it. Go back to the party.”

  Stillwater growls, “Haven’t you been listening to what we’ve been saying?” Slowly nod my head, but not really. “I can’t take you anywhere, Lone! Yes, we do want a meeting with the Count, but you introduce me straightaway, and I take it from there.”

  “You really are dumb. What, do you have a sieve for a brain, Halfy?”

  “Hey, that was sort of the plan.” Feeling like Stillwater wants to punch me. Maybe I should let her so she can get it out of her system. “Okay, okay, I introduce you. I have got it. No need to get upset.”

  Someone comes in to distract from this line of questioning, a man, dressed in the Count’s livery, with a prominent nose and weak chin. A servant of some kind.

  Thank the Trinity! “Rejects, you have been summoned.” This guy is stuffy, is he not? I mean, 'You have been summoned?’ said the same way you would say 'I have had a large bowel movement' or 'These eggs are overdone'. So serious! “Please, come th
is way.”

  I hop up and am quickly followed by Stillwater and Gunnar. WayWocket drinks the potion he has been working on. Shame, I like up-in-the-clouds WayWocket more than the all-serious-like one.

  “Sure thing. Is it not a little early?”

  He turns and raises an eyebrow at me. What in the Holy Saints are you looking at, servant?

  “No, sir, it is not. The Grand Ball is running completely on time.”

  “Please excuse my comrade here. He is stupid.” Thanks so much, Stillwater! “May I ask your name, good sir?”

  “It is Adalric von Housen. I am the major-domo of the estate.”

  Please, no. Killjoy was bad enough. I interrupt him before he gets going. “Nice to meet you, Housen.”

  “I must announce you and organise for you to meet the Count. Page Phillip has prepared you?”

  I just look over at Stillwater and motion for her to deal with it. “Yes, he has. He did a great job. His father should be proud of his efforts to educate us, commoners.”

  Laying it on a bit thick, Stillwater.

  “Good. Please, come this way.”

  More walking through the mansion. It is so nice. I mean, really lovely. The first thing I will do once I am rich is buy a huge house! With all the trimmings, like chandeliers and silver cutlery; hire some people to cook for me; build a fantastic cellar and fill it with expensive ales and beer, maybe some wine. That would be nice.

  “Amsul to Solo. Come in Solo.” Stillwater had to break such a wonderful dream. “We are nearly there. You need to get focused and stop being so impressed by your surroundings.”

  “Yes, yes. So, major-domo, who is coming tonight?”

  He doesn't even answer me—so rude.

  I turn to WayWocket. “How are you feeling?”

  “Are you really asking me that, Lone?” I still cannot get used to this side of WayWocket. “Well, let me explain it to you in the simplest way. Imagine ... You can do that, can't you?”

  Gunnar snorts.

  “Sure I can,” I reply.

  “Good. Imagine that all of existence is completely open to you and in one second that is ripped from you and is replaced by nothing but want and pain.”

  “Okay, yes, I understand. So then, Joan, why do you ask him to do this?”

  “You have seen Way and what he is like normally. He isn’t subtle during momentous events or patrols.”

  That really clears it up. Thanks, Stillwater.

  Gunnar continues, “See, Halfy, we trust Way in either state, but certain people are put off by him.”

  WayWocket is just listening, and then says something that shocks me to my core. “It's like your drinking. You like it because whatever happened to you, it helps you overcome it. My potions do the same thing, but I know when it is best to be sober. Even if it hurts.”

  Where does he get off telling me I have a drinking problem? “What do you mean? I drink because it tastes good and because I can.”

  “My point exactly.”

  Stillwater interrupts, “Enough! If you want to talk about this, do it another time. Gunnar, no slurs or insults. Solo, no getting drunk. Remember why we are here. Way, it won't last long, so keep strong.”

  We have been doing all this in front of Housen. Great. If this reaches the Count, he will just think that we are uncultured idiots, I guess. If he does, and most likely he will, we should not really care.

  I have to acknowledge that the lighting in this place is really top-notch; no dark spots or 'can't make out that guy' shadows. It is nice to be somewhere I cannot be stabbed in the back.

  After walking up some stairs, we reach a cross section. How big is this place?

  “This way.”

  Yes, major-domo. “Just one question.”

  Not even turning around to answer. “Yes?” Not liking this Housen.

  “How far do we have to go?”

  Stillwater gives me a look. I won the local stakes. Will be punched in the face. “Not far, the main ballroom is in another wing.”

  Wing? “Good sir, what is a wing?”

  He stops in his tracks and looks at me. I can see a badly-concealed smirk. “A wing is a section of a large building.” He goes back to leading us down the corridor. “Please, no more interruptions. I have a very tight schedule tonight.”

  How rude. How would I know what a wing is? Gunnar is laughing again at my expense. “Good one, Solo. You must have a natural talent for being stupid and clueless.” If it was not for the anger rising in waves from Stillwater, I would retort, but I like my nose being not broken.

  I hear some muffled music. Finally, we are here. The major-domo holds up his arm. “Please, wait here. I need to announce you.” I look at Stillwater for some sort of direction. She just looks back and shrugs. Great.

  “My Lords and Ladies, I would like to present the Adventuring Charter known as The Rejects.”

  This will be interesting.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Journal Entry Three continued …

  So, we finally made it to the Ball. Rubbed shoulders with some of the most powerful people in the western side of Favinonia. Two things about the Trahern family is they are huge and always keep their word. I am glad to know them, and if they call on me I will always serve now ...

  As we move forwards, a large man is shaking the hand of another person. “There he is—Count Darel.” Thanks, Stillwater, would never have known that!

  “Should we wait to shake his hand?” I ask.

  “Yes, it is customary for each guest to meet the host.”

  Looking around as we stand in line waiting, something occurs to me “Where is his wife?”

  The surrounding nobles and rich people send me a disgusting look, but I am used to that, being a half-breed.

  Gunnar lowers his tone. “His wife died a few years ago. You are stupid, Halfy.”

  Taking a huge breath to counter jab at Gunnar, but with that look from Stillwater, I like my insides to be inside. Now my most fun thing; waiting around.

  I think this is the first time I have ever been in the presence of nobility. I have seen knights and stuff during my army years, but I am so close to them now.

  We wait in line to thank him for the invite, just like his kid said. I cannot help but notice he has a bandage around his hand and a small cut on his cheek. I wonder where the Duke is. Must be here somewhere. And then I accidentally walk into some primped-up bastard. I should remember my manners.

  “Sorry about that, excuse me. I was just moving towards His Excellency.”

  As he turns, I notice he has a fantastic beard; a little silver shot through his black hair. Looks a little scary but I have seen worse. I hear a gasp in the background, from Stillwater I think. What is her problem?

  Stillwater moves forward in front of me and curtsies low to the man. “Your Grace, I am so sorry that this individual bumped into you.” Grace? “He doesn't pay attention all too well. My humblest apologies.”

  He just laughs. Screw you too. He holds up his hands as I notice a few beefy-looking guys moving towards us. “No worries. It happens to me all the time. It's Sergeant Joan Stillwater, isn't it?”

  I have no idea what is happening. Who is this guy? “Yes, Your Grace, but Sergeant no more. I have left the Town Watch to become an Adventurer.”

  Grace? Is this man’s name Grace?

  “Ah, a shame. I heard great stories about your victories at the Hall tournaments. Champion four years running. I have been meaning to talk to Axel concerning your future.”

  Stillwater’s face just goes red. I need to know who this guy is. “Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. I assume that you are someone important, but I just need to ask, is your name really Grace? Where I come from, that is a woman's name!”

  Everyone around me goes quiet. The man turns towards me and looks me over quickly. His smile cracks into a grin, and he starts laughing. A full belly laugh that shakes his frame. “So, this must be the man being awarded tonight.” He knows me? “By your bewildered look, yes,
I know who you are. I will be awarding you my Iron Medal of Heroism later tonight.”

  He pats me on the shoulder, still chuckling to himself, and walks past me. That was the bloody Duke! The bloody Iron Duke! With everyone laughing at his comments, I feel like a fool.

  “What. Did. I. Say?” Stillwater whispers to me, stressing every word. “Show some bloody respect! That was His Grace, Duke Trahern. You are a bloody fool. Come on, we have to meet the Count.”

  Like clockwork, Gunnar needs to say something too. “You did good, Solo.”

  Frick you too, Gunnar. Even WayWocket looks disappointed with me. He knocks me in the hip. “Just move forward, Solo.” Stillwater is already talking to the Count. “Come on, we need to thank His Excellency.”

  In the corner of my eye, I notice Belgrim of the Travellers, the ham-fisted pugilist laughing with Seth. Wondering where his mother Laura and father Althanis are. Of all of them, I envy him the most, having an Elf father who stayed with him and a mother who loves him.

  Then I see Seth wave and elbow Grim to notice me. Great, now they are coming over. Stillwater, steps on my foot. Under her breath whispers, “Pay attention!”

  The Count is looking right at me like he asked me a question and I did not notice.

  “It can be a bit distracting, this whole affair.” He continues, “I was expecting the Adventurer Lone Solo, but I was informed when I returned that you are part of a Charter—the Rejects.”

  “Yes, Your Excellency. We only formed a new Charter this morning with Lone Solo.” Stillwater motions to me. “We are hoping to do good things in the name of justice.”

  He cocks his eyebrow at me. “Well, I can see that you have already made quite an impression on my cousin, the Duke. Thank you for coming. Please enjoy the party.”

  He turns to talk to the next person. We move away, and this is what I was waiting for—getting grilled by Stillwater. I do not know who is worse, my old army sergeant or Stillwater.

  “Was that your idea of keeping out of trouble? I mean, really, Solo! I could punch you so hard right now.”