Hans Draiger. 11 Sextilis, 1582 AAA. Foothold.
“Of the known rational creatures, Wyverns are perhaps the strangest. Woose, Selkies and the like are clearly imperfect precursors to humanity, but wyverns are wholly different in body, more similar to dragons than to humans, demi-humans, or even tengu. Wyverns, however, are still clearly rational. They possess the gift of languages, and of tools. They construct buildings, and unlike Woose they learnt this art on their own, rather than in imitation of humans. Therefore, wyverns are very clearly rational, and also animals.
Ciornio of Ararta, A Discourse on Humanity and the Divine.
A pair of airships drifted through the evening air, their running lights aglow and the white on green three spoked wheel of the Commonwealth trailing behind them. The machines, barely two miles up, eclipsed the moon behind their canvas coated bulk.
“The Commonwealth ain’t fucking around” Uln whispered as they trudged through Eidre’s lifeless apple garden. Come spring, it would bloom back into life, but for now they were virtual skeletons.
A lone servant walked out from the front of the manor house, stuffing her hands under her apron to cope with the cold.
The Manor house was a two story fortified building of stone and wood, it’s lower windows little more than slits while the upper windows, made of glass, were protected with iron bars. A squat turret poked out over the building’s roof, the red tiles concealed by white snow.
“You’ll have to leave your weapons at the door” the servant announced as she opened the thick doors to the building. Hans passed her the hatchet he had under his coat, and the knife he had at his belt, while Uln unbuckled her two-handed Wolzuk falchion. He’d bought it from a cutler as a gift for her; it had apparently been looted at the battle of Halidon’s Hill. She placed the weapons on the weapon rack, alongside the pollaxes and blunderbusses stored to defend the home against sudden attack.
When they were done disarming themselves, the Draigers continued into the building, along a gallery lined with loopholes. Outside, Hans had become so used to the cold that he barely noticed it, but in here it suddenly seemed stiflingly hot, even if he knew it to be merely a normal temperature. He quickly pulled off his gloves-both the thicker woollen mittens and the thinner linen gloves underneath, and tucked them through his belt, then began working on unbuttoning his coat and unwinding his scarf. Uln was doing the same, stripping down to her skirts, shift and sleeveless bodice.
The servant-Draiger realized he needed to find out her name-led them into a waiting room. Like most of the lower floor, it would have been gloomy during summer, but, thanks to the overcast sky, was now very thoroughly dark. Draiger sat down. The first servant left, and then another servant-a short, wiry man in Eidre’s green and white colours-entered and set up a candle on the table, then offered to remove their coats, gloves and scarves to the coatroom. Hans let him.
There was very little noise except for his own and Uln’s breathing and the noise of servants preparing dinner outside.
“What do you reckon she wants us for?” Uln asked.
“If I were her, I’d be trying to find out everything possible about those wyverns, so I could distance myself from the attack or nail the killers and get in West Point’s good graces” Hans said.
“Yeah, makes sense. Wouldn’t want to be her if West Point decides they want to burn shit down”
They both knew how wyvern justice worked. It made an eye for eye look lenient.
“That’ll be fun for her. Stuck between the Commonwealth, the wyverns and whatever mob of bloodthirsty morons the killers round up”
“Which is probably why she’s hauling us into this” Uln said.
“We’ll just have to wait and see” Hans answered.
Hans felt the weight of Uln leaning her head against his shoulder, and put his arm around her. The silence resumed, until a maid knocked on the door and informed them that dinner was ready.
They followed her out, into the already set dining room. Neither of the O Mathuna’s were in their formal dress. Eidre had her blond hair done up and was in a plain but clearly well tailored green and white riding dress, while her husband Lorne-a quiet, balding man, a farmer Eidre had married for love-had a similar green doublet with white breeches and hose. Aled was also there, and visibly scowled when he saw Uln.
This may be awkward.
Hans took his seat at the table, Uln sitting beside him. He knew it was customary for couples to sit across the table, but if he’d cared about custom he wouldn’t have married a Woose, and if Eidre cared about custom she wouldn’t have a couple of woodsrunners at her table.
“How was the hunt?” Lorne began.
“Not as easy as we were hoping” Draiger answered “But I’ve seen worse. We might have lost it if it hadn’t stopped to scavenge. But we killed it anyway.”
“You always do” Eidre added.
“Well, you wounded it, I knocked it down and Uln killed it” Draiger answered.
Uln grinned. “Pity it got right back up and kept coming, and poor old me had to do all the real work”.
She’d pitched her voice down to the lower, Carfani accent she adopted when dealing when dealing with “respectable” company.
Hans laughed. “True enough”
There was silence for a few moments.
“Did you hear of Herene Calwere’s marriage?” Aled eventually asked.
“Yes. A very good match-very rich, but not much in the way of lands” Lorne said.
“I still reckon she could have done better” Aled said.
“I do believe you have an apology to make” Eidre interrupted sternly.
Aled scowled. “Really. I told you, I just asked them where they’re loyalties lay.”
Hans considered telling them exactly what Aled had said, but decided it was more amusing to give him enough rope to hang himself with.
“Didn’t sound like it. Besides, I don’t see why it’s your job to go about interrogating my tenants” Eidre said.
Aled got back to his food in silence.
“Gennene has my compliments. The food is excellent” Eidre said, though she sounded like she didn’t mean it.
Hans ignored the small talk. It felt half-hearted and forced. He knew what everyone in the room wanted to talk about, and it wasn’t marriages or hunting.
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Eidre put the dinner conversation out of its misery.
“I do believe we have more important matters to discuss”
Finally, Hans thought.
“Finally” Uln whispered under her breath.
*
They retired to Eidre’s Cabinet, leaving Aled behind.
“Would you trust a fourteen year old who’ll say anything to impress his friends and reckons killing wyverns shouldn’t be considered murder with the secret mission about wyvern murdering?” Lorne said when Hans had asked.
Hans knew that Lorne and Eidre where less than impressed with the young man their son had grown up into, but he’d never known it was this bad.
Granted, the bastard deserves it, and he’s doing a hell of a lot better than I was at his age.
“So what are we really here for?” Uln finally asked when they settled into the room. It surprisingly spacious for a private room, but still felt cramped with four people crammed into it. There was a writing desk up against one wall and an artist’s stand with a half finished sketch of a harpy on another, with a small meeting table in the middle.
A suit of battered harquebusier’s armour hung from a stand in the corner, alongside a pair of pistols, a rapier and a carbine with a burst barrel.
“Envoys” Lorne said.
“What sort of envoy?” Hans asked.
“The sort of envoy who apologizes very profusely for their ally’s undiplomatic actions” Eidre said.
“I’m no ally to whoever did that” Hans said.
Eidre stood up from the seat she’d taken, looming over them.
“Not the real killers. Us. Foothold is the closest settlement to where the killing took place. The Commonwealth or West Point will go to us first, when they come looking for justice or retribution. And I don’t want lobsters or war skeins on my lands. Besides, I need to know how the wyverns are reacting. Knowledge is power.
“So what do I tell them? It wasn’t Foothold? That’s at best making shit up, and at worst a lie”
There’s a fair chance people I know did that, he thought. His stomach tightened.
“If we make it clear some of us are willing to talk and that they have potential allies, they’ll be less likely to take things into their own hands or bring in the Commonwealth.” Lorne said.
“The wyvern aren’t stupid, they won’t believe us without evidence, and chances are, the attackers are connected to Foothold.”
“Why do you think that?” Eidre asked.
“Half the town wants to kill wyverns or a war with the commonwealth, Adair himself doesn’t give a damn, we’re less than a day’s walk from there, and nicking a couple of artillery pieces seems like the sort of thing a bunch of rogue militiamen would do” Hans said.
“Do we know for sure that the same people that did the weapons theft did the killing?” Lorne asked.
“Seems like a waste of effort to go out, kill the wyverns, go back, go out again and make off with the guns” Uln said, leaning against the wall. She’d never gotten used to chairs, and avoided sitting on them whenever possible.
Lorne chuckled. “Fair enough. Though people who want a fight with the Commonwealth may not be the sharpest knives in the kitchen”
“Besides that, I saw tracks that looked like wagons or guns being hauled. They must have gotten the guns, and then were bringing them in when they ran into the wyverns” Hans said. He paused after that, unsure of what to say.
“Are you willing to risk war with West Point, or getting into a conflict with the Commonwealth while they have West Point on their side?” Eidre finally asked. “We all know what they’re capable of.”
Hans still remembered the sunsets stained red by ash, and the glow of fires on the horizon from the ’67. He’d seen wyvern warriors in action, though thankfully on the hunt rather than in battle. He had no desire to end up on the receiving end of their attacks.
“No” Hans said.
“Then what do you suggest we do, if not go out there and try and explain things?” Eidre asked.
“Tell them we don’t know who did it, but we can find out given time. Tell them they have allies. Tell them if they do this carefully and subtly, they’ll be able to get actual justice and not just a pile of bodies with nothing to show for it.”
He hoped the conviction he felt showed through in his voice. He didn’t place any bets.
Eidre considered it for a moment. “So exactly what I wanted you to do, but frame it as laying out hard truths rather than begging for mercy”
“Yes” Hans said. “The only wyverns wintering at West Point will be warriors. They like strength and honesty.”
And flattery about their talent for killing things, if Scar & Rye are to be believed. Of course, being merchants, those two may not be the most objective judges…
“Alright, but who did it anyway?” Uln asked.
“Patriot’s Brigade, local militia, or Commonwealth false flag.” Lorne rattled off. Hans guessed from how fast he said them that he’d already gone through the options.
“It’s the Brigade, most likely” Lorne added
“Who?” Uln asked.
“Patriot’s Brigade. They’re a group of republicans who want to throw out the Commonwealth by force. They’ve been trying to recruit me for years. I told them if war comes I’ll fight, but until then I’ll be looking for peaceful solutions.” Eidre explained.
“Damn” Hans muttered. He hadn’t thought about it before, but it did make sense. The brigade had been rumoured to be involved in a number of weapons thefts, and he’d once had the misfortune of hearing a self proclaimed member of them rant about how it was humanities destiny to inherit the peninsula from the rational animals that currently inhabited it. The man had virtually fainted when Hans had told him he was quite happily married to a Woose.
“I found an arrow that might show who did it, if you could match it with a similar arrow” Hans said.
“What sort of arrow?” Lorne asked.
“Not local. Bodkin point, grey feathers like I’ve never seen before, short, thin shaft”
“Do you have it here?”
“No”
“Well, leave it here before you go. That will give us a start on plugging the leaks by finding out who did this, while you bail water”