It was late afternoon when they finally arrived in Arronay. Terra’s quad had run out of gas a few hours outside the city, forcing them to dismount and take turns pushing the quad the rest of the way. There was still a little bit of gasoline left in their last jerry can, but barely enough to make a dent, so the decision was made to call it. Nalya informed them there would be a place to store the quads until such time as they came back for them, but it was unlikely they’d be traveling back to the Disputed Lands by way of Arronay. More than likely, they would take the route from Godri’s Gate in the eastern part of the Midsem Duchy.
Terra had been excited when they first spotted the skyline of Arronay in the distance. They city was far larger than she’d been led to believe, lined with high walls and towers made of marble. It was visible from miles away, and had grown larger with every step until they made their way down to the city.
At the gates of the city, people were coming and going. Some of them had stopped to regard the group moving the quads, but one look at Nalya prevented them from approaching them. They recognized her colours, and knew better than to interfere in the affairs of the nobility. The guards did little to delay them. Nalya had gone up to speak with them, and they were allowed to pass without another question.
Once inside the city, Terra finally got a true sense of the scale. Every building in the city shared the same sort of design: smooth marble buildings with ornate pillars and artistic designs all across the facade. Near the center of the city was a lone tower that rose higher than any other building, and at the docks was a long marble pier, stained with barnacles and seaweed. It was almost blinding to see.
“Those ships are huge,” Terra remarked, pointing out the large four-and-five sail ships lined along the pier. She looked to Nalya. “Are they for going to other continents?”
“Trade ships,” Nalya said. “Likely goods from Rasza and Vector. The smaller ships there likely hail from Shavi or Kura.”
“Kura, that’s one of the Duchies of Halen, right?”
Nalya nodded. “Keltz is from Kura. It’s an island off the northwestern coast.” She looked back to Terra. “As for other continents, there is only a chain of islands far to the south, across the Lost Ocean, but there is nothing there worth visiting. It’s populated mostly by barbarian tribes. They sometimes attempt to raid settlements along the coast of Vector.”
“But not the Disputed Lands?”
She shook her head. “They rarely come that far north. The Southmen don’t bother.” She gestured toward a main road. “We’ll go to Ableton Hall and get some rooms,” she said. “In the morning we’ll see my Uncle before commissioning a coach to Cilasia.”
“There’s a lot going on here,” Ryan said. “If we’ve got some time, is it okay to catch some of the sights? What about live music? I’d like to get a sense of how you guys rock out.”
“Rock out?” Nalya asked. She shook her head as if she didn’t want to know. “What do you mean by live music?”
“You know. People playing instruments and singing and whatnot on stage. Don't tell me you guys don't do that.”
“Wouldn’t all their music be live?” Terra asked. “You know, with the lack of recording technology and whatnot?”
“Oh,” Ryan said. “Right.”
“I’m still trying to make sense of the way you speak,” Nalya said with a laugh. “I suppose the Hallowed String would be the place for that. It’s an upper class establishment, but the Counts of the Duchy will likely be there tonight to showcase their musicians.”
“Ooh,” Terra said. “I want to go.”
“Usually they’d not allow ye within a mile of that place,” Bayne said. “Good thing we have a Countess in our presence.”
Nalya maintained her silence for a moment. “I suppose it would be a good idea to introduce you to the nobility,” she said. She looked to Ryan thoughtfully. “Perhaps it would be a good time for you to play your instrument.”
Ryan looked over at her. “You think?”
“Aye, that's a great idea!” Bayne exclaimed. “Just to see the looks on the faces of those noble lardasses when you get up there and play one of your songs. You should play that smiling song you sang the other night.”
“Smiling song?”
“Aye, you know the one.”
Ryan cocked his head for a moment. “Oh, you mean that Smashing Pumpkins song. Disarm?”
“Aye, that’s the one.”
“Nah, I have a better idea. Something a little more contextual.”
“No matter, I’m certain you’ll raise some brows. You'd show up those lute tinkerers and flute blowers, that's for sure.” He winked. “Might even catch the eye of a rich noblewoman.”
“Bayne!” Nalya shot. “Honestly.”
“What? He's a good lookin' lad. There's no sense in letting him go to waste, now is there?”
Nalya merely rolled her eyes. Ryan was grinning ear-to-ear.
“Well, if we're going out, I'm not wearing this,” Terra said. “We've been travelling, and I'd like to get cleaned up first. Is there a bath?”
Nalya nodded. “In the back of Ableton Hall there’s a grand bath,” she said. “I have to bathe as well, I'll meet you there.”
Terra blinked. “Meet me there?” She stared at Nalya blankly. “Wait, it’s communal?”
Nalya nodded. “Of course. What did you expect?”
“No running water, Terra,” Ryan said, making the point. “No indoor plumbing, bathing here must work like it did in ancient Rome.” He looked to Nalya. “Let me guess, a bath for men, a bath for women?”
Nalya cocked her head to one side. “Why would there be a separate bath for men and women?” she asked.
“You’re kidding, right?” Terra asked. She stopped on a dime.
Nalya betrayed herself with a sly smile. “Of course I am,” she said. “With that said, your people have strange customs when it comes to being unclothed.”
“How so?”
Nalya paused. “I’ve noticed you take special care to hide your nudity,” she said. “Even amongst each other, yet you are trusted friends. I understand why one would hide themselves from an enemy or a stranger, but you are friends.”
“I’m suddenly not comfortable with this conversation,” Ryan said.
“And that is what I mean,” she said. She looked to Terra. “Do you have concern Ryan or Cale would do something untoward?”
“Well, no it’s not that,” Terra said. “But men are perverts.”
Nalya laughed. “Are not women as well?”
“Not as much as guys!”
“I dunno about that,” Ryan said. “My ex was into some weird stuff. Like uncomfortably weird.”
“You may do whatever you feel is more comfortable,” she said. “But it is not uncommon for friends and family of different sexes to bathe in the same space in the Pactlands.”
“I’ll pass,” Terra said.
----------------------------------------
The Hallowed String was nothing like Ryan had pictured. It was a small establishment, and largely unassuming from the exterior. The building blended in with the landscape in the same way he found to be common with the architecture of the city.
After their baths, Ryan had sat with Nalya talking about the city’s culture. Apparently every building in the city has to be designed with the same aesthetic. Most of the buildings were hundreds of years old, designed and constructed by Earth Mage architects using marble mined from the Cilasian mountains north of the capital. It prompted a whistle from Ryan. Moving that much marble by wagon must have been a serious undertaking, even with the assistance of Earth Mages to make the process easier.
From outside the windows at Ableton Hall, they spied a procession moving past, with the telltale sounds of oboes being played. Both of them leaned out the wide window of their room watching while the others got ready for a night on the town.
Nalya explained what the procession was for: Once a year during the Harbinger’s Festival, Duke Poram Izon of Cetra, the Duchy in which Arronay had been constructed, would move his menagerie into the City Square, so that all the subjects of Cetra might visit Arronay to experience it. It was said that he had one of the most comprehensive collections of rare animals from across the Pactlands and beyond.
While the menagerie was made available to the public, the Duke would stroll amongst his subjects for a day, then travel to Cilasia to attend the great feast at the Sculpted Palace. Upon his return, the menagerie would return to the safe confines of the Duke’s castle.
Nalya suggested that while she and Terra attended to the Seer the next morning, that the others take in the sights at the menagerie. With the strange animals Ryan had seen thus far, he was eager to see what surprises they might have.
Eventually, the others readied themselves for a night out. Ryan had to admit it was nice to wear some crisp, clean clothes. Cale and Ryan, ironically, looked like they were copying each other’s homework. Cale wore blue jeans and his Queens of the Stone Age t-shirt, while Ryan also wore a pair of blue jeans and a Coheed and Cambria t-shirt. Terra surprised them by dressing in a black-and-white skirt with a diamond-like pattern and a black shirt with a light faux-leather jacket. Over her shoulder was a purple purse, just big enough to hide a curious Tyl from prying eyes.
Nalya wore a simple dress she’d purchased from Ableton Hall. It was a black dress in a distinctly medieval style that flowed down to her ankles with a red sash. On her lapel she wore a brooch meant to signify her as a Countess of Itelier, the Duchy in which the Capital was located.
Bayne dressed like… well, Bayne.
There was no lineup outside of the Hallowed String, only a single doorman who stood at attention. He regarded the group with suspicion until his eyes he spied the brooch Nalya wore.
“Countess,” the doorman greeted. “Forgive my ignorance, my Lady, but might I know your name? I fear it is uncommon for the Hallowed String to receive visitors from Itelier during the Harbinger’s Festival.”
“Nalya Ruus,” she said.
“Of course, Countess Nalya of the House of Roses,” the doorman said. “I have, of course, heard of your ennoblement. I understand you have visited our fine establishment before?”
Nalya nodded. “Yes, but that was before I was granted my title.”
“Of course. Nonetheless, Arronay and all of the Duchy is better for your presence tonight.” He looked up toward Ryan and the others. He seemed somewhat critical of their style of dress. “And these, your guests?”
“They are,” she said. She motioned toward Ryan. “I have even brought a performer of my own as a gift to the patrons of the Hallowed String.”
The doorman nodded. “May your music be as unique as your wardrobe,” he said. He stepped to one side. “You may enter. Please be silent during the performances.”
As they entered, Ryan noticed the difference between the interior and exterior of the building right away. Surprisingly, the interior was sunk further into the ground, with seats and tables arranged in a tiered semi-circle around a central stage. It reminded him of the amphitheatre at Transfer Beach Park. It seemed designed in such a way to amplify the sounds coming from the stage so that all could hear.
“That is Duke Izon,” Nalya said, pointing toward a man sitting amongst several others at a wide table at the highest tier in the room.
Duke Izon took note of Nalya, and for a moment cocked his head to one side. He appeared surprised to see her, but he raised a drink in her direction as she nodded politely to him. Ryan felt his eyes glide over him and the others as they descended down a couple of tiers, where Nalya led the group to a round table.
“This tier is for nobles from other Duchies,” she explained. She pointed to the tier above them. “Counts, Countesses and their children, while the top tier is reserved only for the Duke and his guests.”
“What about the lower tiers?” Terra asked.
“Barons,” she said. “Merchants, city officials and other people of import,” she said.
“Countess Nalya!” an old man dressed in a tight-fitting bright red tunic with white frills exclaimed as he approached the table. “We are so very honoured here at the Hallowed String to receive you this night. My man informed me you have brought a performer with you?”
“I have,” Nalya said. She motioned to Ryan. “This is Ryan Stills. He is very talented and bears a unique instrument I believe will be a treat to your patrons tonight.”
“Is that so?” The man looked immediately at the guitar case next to Ryan. “Greetings to you, Master Stills. What instrument will you be playing for us tonight?”
“It’s called a guitar,” Ryan said. “I’ll be singing as well.”
“Splendid,” he replied. “Then we shall have you as our fourth tonight. I shall have you waited upon shortly.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
With that, the man wandered off toward the tier above theirs and greeted another table.
“I had not expected you to go up so soon,” Nalya said.
“Does the order of performances also follow the tier system?” Cale asked.
She nodded. “It is assumed that the Duke will have the best performance of the evening,” she explained. “At least in practice.” She looked to Ryan. “It’s tradition to honour the Duke’s performer before all others, although that doesn’t always mean it will be the best performer.”
“This isn’t a contest, right?” Ryan asked.
“Not at all,” Nalya said.
The Hallowed String remained silent while waiters climbed down the tiers from the top, sending runners to what Ryan assumed was the kitchen as every order was made. He gathered the food service worked differently, as the Duke’s table seemed to be the first to order, while the tables on the lower tiers received service afterward.
Ryan was surprised to see there were several options available. They didn’t have a menu exactly, but the waiter offered them their choice of up to seven different meals. For the most part, Ryan didn’t recognize the names of half of the food being offered, but he did understand the smell of cooking steak quite well. He and the others made their orders, and to their surprise, the meals arrived only minutes later. They must have been preparing the meals before anyone even arrived.
Finally, the man dressed in red walked up to the stage, folded his hands together, and looked out among the people.
“Friends of the Hallowed String,” he began. “Esteemed guests, Lords and Ladies, and of course honoured visitors, I welcome you all to the first night of the Harbinger’s Festival in the shining jewel of the Cetra Duchy, the great marble city of Arronay!”
“This year, as with every year, we are blessed to be in the presence of great musical talents from across the Duchy and beyond. We have ten performers tonight, each chosen and fostered in their talents by the great men and women we have seated at our tables this evening.”
He motioned to the audience.
“Once again, I ask us all to honour the performers tonight with our silence while they are playing. And so, I would invite the first performer of the evening, the flute-player Holm Passen, who shall perform a rendition of the Halish hymn, The Breaking of the Hill.”
There was a short round of applause as the performer took to the stage and sat upon a stool. After the applause died down, he began to play.
The tune he played was reminiscent of some medieval songs he’d heard in school like Greensleeves or Begone, Dull Care. Simple songs, but with a lot of history behind them. Ryan listened carefully, trying to pick up on each note. Ryan had played guitar since he was eleven, and he could shred with the best of them, but he found himself somewhat intimidated by the flute-player. Back home, the flute was usually only played as part of an orchestra. Here, however, it was a big part of the main event.
The song lasted for several minutes before the next performer arrived. Ryan was surprised to see that he was playing a brass horn style instrument that reminded him of a cross between a saxophone and a trombone. He played another song called At the Saveur’s Rest.
He started to feel a little nervous when the third player got up. Ryan was going to be next. He’d had small bouts of stage fright when he started playing at part of the band he and Justin had started, but he’d grown used to it. But then, they mostly did cover songs that everyone knew. The song he was going to play was going to be something completely new to the people there.
The third player had a two-stringed lute, and Ryan felt somewhat relieved to see it. He knew there were stringed instruments in the Pactlands. He felt twice as relieved when the player also sang along with it. It was a love ballad that seemed to be an original song by the performer.
As the third performer ended the song, and the applause erupted, the relief Ryan felt suddenly turned to anxiety.
“Splendid!” said the man in red. “Next, we have Ryan Stills playing a guitar. Master Ryan Stills is here at the behest of the Countess of Itelier, Nalya Ruus of the Ancestral House of Roses. As many know, the Lady Nalya was recently ennobled after her house remained empty for the past twenty years. We welcome Lady Nalya and her performer to the Hallowed String.”
Ryan stood up and took a deep breath, hefting his guitar case over his shoulder.
“Go knock ‘em dead,” Terra said.
He made his way to the stage and took a seat on the stool as he pulled his guitar out of the case and set himself to the task of checking the tuning.
“Hi,” he said. “This is a tune from where I come from. It’s an old song for me, but it’s likely going to be something new for you. It’s called Thousand Mile Wish, and it’s by a musical group back home called Finger Eleven.”
He took another deep breath, and started strumming the guitar. After the opening bars, he broke into the lyrics, making sure to sing loud enough that his voice would carry. As he played, he looked out among the audience. The expressions of many of the guests were one of surprise. Certainly they were used to the lute, but the versatility of the guitar was new to them, and the speed and passion of the music were unlike anything Ryan had heard yet that evening.
During his performance, he could see several people leaning over and speaking to one another, but he tried his best to ignore it. Instead, he looked toward his table. Terra, Cale, Bayne and Nalya were sitting silently. He looked back up to Nalya as he made his way through the song, and looked directly into her eyes.
Finally, the song came to a close, and Ryan stopped playing.
There was a moment of awkward silence until Terra started clapping loudly, which spurred the rest of the audience into applause. Some members of the audience didn’t react at all, but others even stood in their seats, including the Duke himself.
“Wonderful!” the MC exclaimed as he took to the stage. “Never in my thirty years at the Hallowed String have I ever heard such music! A splendid performance indeed!”
Ryan nodded to the MC in thanks, then put his guitar back into the case and returned to his table.
“You killed it,” Terra said. “They loved it.”
“Some of them did,” Ryan said. “Others just looked confused.”
“You can’t expect to bring modern music to a medieval environment and have everyone decide to rock out,” Cale added. “But the MC liked it.”
The next performers then started to play, but the atmosphere in the Hallowed String had certainly changed. Ryan was catching a lot of looks in his direction throughout the performances, and even got a few dirty looks from some of them. He’d made a splash one way or the other, and he wasn’t yet certain that was a good thing.
Still, Ryan found himself impressed with the skills of the subsequent performers. The last performer was a young woman who played the harp masterfully, and sang clearly and loudly as though she were performing an opera. The crowd applauded her even as she returned to the Duke’s table. As she passed, she met Ryan’s eyes and smiled.
“Begging your pardon, Countess,” came the voice of one of the waiters a few moments later. “Duke Izon would like to request the pleasure of company from you and your guests.”
Ryan looked back toward the top tier. The Duke was smiling at them as he sat next to his performer. Again, he raised a drink in their direction.
“Must we?” Bayne suddenly asked.
“It would be rude to refuse, Bayne,” Nalya said. She looked to the waiter. “We will join him.”
Ryan picked up his drink and took it with them as they approached the Duke’s table. Upon arrival, the Duke had several of those sitting close to him switch seats, so as to allow space for his new guests.
“Countess Nalya,” the Duke greeted. “It is so wonderful to see you again. I hadn’t known you were going to be back in Halen so soon. I trust nothing untoward happened in the Disputed Lands?”
“Duke Izon, I am honoured,” she said. “No, nothing untoward happened. The men under my command are still there, under the guidance of my Lieutenants.”
Izon cocked his head to one side. “May I ask what facilitated your return to Halen?” He leaned in close. “Does this have to do with the rumours I’ve been hearing since this morning of strange things afoot along the Aegel Coast?”
Nalya nodded and then motioned to Ryan, Cale and Terra. “The rumours you’ve heard are true,” she said. “A large portion of the Aegel Coast disappeared from our maps entirely, replaced by a town full of people who hail from another world.”
“Surely that can’t be,” Izon commented. He stroked his beard and looked to the Canadians.
“It’s true,” Ryan said. “We’re from a world we call Earth.”
“You named your world after the dirt beneath our feet?” asked the Duke’s performer. “How strange.”
“It sort of evolved that way,” Ryan replied. “But now we’re here. On Eiden.”
“My word, so you are not mere Freemen, then?” He chuckled. “I suppose even the Countess would not be so ignorant as to bring Freemen to the Hallowed String as guests.”
Ryan noticed that Bayne seemed to stiffen up at the dig, but he caught Nalya giving him a calming gesture.
“My name is Calissa, Master Ryan Stills,” said the performer, changing the subject. “I must say I was very moved by your performance. A song the likes of which I’ve never heard. The rhythm, the speed, the words. So very unique. And the masterful way you handled your instrument!”
“Ah yes,” Izon said. “Calissa is a rare and unique talent herself. I’ve been her patron since she was a child. The daughter of one of my favoured servants.”
“The Duke has been very kind to me,” she said.
“Ah, my kindness is secondary to the joy her music brings me,” he said. He looked to Ryan. “Tell me, Master Ryan, that instrument of yours. I would be interested in procuring one for Calissa. She can play so many instruments, it would be a pleasure to have you show her it‘s used.” He nodded toward Nalya. “I would, of course, compensate you and your patron for some of your time.”
“Unfortunately, we are only in Arronay for the evening, my Lord,” Nalya said. “Tomorrow we must leave for Cilasia to speak with the King.”
“Oh?”
“I do not wish to bore you with the mundane details of my duty, my Lord,” she replied.
“It is no bore to me when it comes to the interests of Halen, I assure you.” He once again leaned in close. “Tell me, how fares the Vectoran claim upon the Disputed Lands? It’s all the court can speak of these days.”
Nalya held her silence for a moment before continuing. “It is… complicated,” she said. “With the presence of Ladysmith, much has changed, but we fear Vector would not recognize it as such.”
“You believe they will include their land in their claim against the Disputed Lands?” Izon asked. He looked to Ryan. “You could do much worse than to serve under Emperor Cuerian, I suppose.” He laughed. “Better him than the fools in the Raszan High Court.”
Bayne stiffened up again, but held his tongue after a glance from Nalya.
“We’re sovereign,” Cale said. He looked toward the Duke. “We have a system of government in place. We have a nation. It’s called Canada, and it might be an entire world away, but we’re going to protect the ideals of our country with everything we have. And part of that involves not being under the boot of a foreign power.”
The Duke raised his eyebrow. “And your good name, sir?”
“Cale. Cale Shepherd. I’m a Constable with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.”
“Royal? So you are a lawkeeper under the service of a king, then? Are you not under his boot?” He leaned forward. “As a lawkeeper, would that not make you the boot?”
“We don’t serve a King,” Cale said. “We’re Canadians. We have a Queen, but she’s more a figurehead than a head of state. We have a constitutional monarchy, under a parliamentary democracy.”
“A parliamentary democracy?”
“We elect our leaders,” Cale explained. “By vote.”
He suddenly laughed. “What an odd way of doing things. So your people simply go around collecting votes to decide who makes your decisions? How foolish.”
“I don’t particularly see what’s so funny,” Cale replied. His tone meant business.
“Constable, please,” Nalya said, interjecting. “My sincere apologies for my guest, my Lord. They are not used to the decorum of nobility.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Izon said. “I am used to telling men of lesser standing truths they do not wish to hear.”
Cale suddenly stood up. He looked to Nalya. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to this–”
“--ease up, lad,” Bayne suddenly warned. “A free tongue can land you in trouble here, lawkeeper or not.”
“No, please,” the Duke said. “I am interested. Please, finish your thought.”
It was getting more tense by the minute. Cale wasn’t looking like he was going to back down, and the Duke seemed as though he wanted to exploit that.
“I think emotions are running a little high,” Ryan said, interjecting. He looked to the Duke. “Please forgive my friend. He has a lot of love for our home, as do we all. And right now, our home is at risk. A lot of innocent people stand to get hurt through no fault of their own.”
“Perhaps Ryan is correct,” Nalya said. “Duke Izon, I thank you for your hospitality at your table and in your city. But we should probably prepare to leave as we’ll be leaving for Cilasia tomorrow.”
Izon remained silent as he took a sip from his cup.
“Very well,” he said. “Then let me be the first to wish you good journey.” He looked to Ryan. “Master Ryan, I do wish for you to consider my offer. Calissa is a quick study.” He looked to Cale. “And to you, Constable. Good journey. I suspect we will see each other again at the Sculpted Palace.”
With that, he raised his drink once more, and the five of them got up and made their way back to Ableton Hall.
----------------------------------------
The Marble Keep was a prime example of the exorbitant taste of the Duke of Cetra. She had to admit the design of the Duke’s Castle certainly displayed the artistic flair she’d grown used to during her stays in Arronay, but she found it all to be too bright. Even then, in the dead of night when most of the guards and servants were sleeping and the castle itself was only lit by lanterns, sconces and candlelight it was a strain on her eyes. She detested the uniformity of Arronay. At least in Cilasia, the architecture was wide and varied. But neither place had her favour as much as the streets and alleys of Telemenn.
Astara had been summoned late that night. It wasn’t uncommon. She usually met with her clients in the dead of night. Her clientele often preferred it, due in part to the services often asked of her requiring as few eyes as possible, and the fact that Light Mages were more limited in their abilities when there was not much light to be commanded.
Astara was perhaps unique among Light Mages in that she, too, preferred the dark corners of the world. Certainly she was in the unique position to be able to hide herself completely in well-lit spaces, but the sun could often be a detriment to her.
Still, she was certainly not above meeting in either sort of space when it came to her first love: gold.
“Ah, Astara,” Duke Izon greeted as she entered his chamber. He was seated at a desk half-clothed, poring over a parchment while a brown-haired young woman lay in his bed, sleeping. “You have my thanks for coming so swiftly.”
Another thing Astara detested were nobles. She hated their aura of presumed superiority due to their arbitrary accidents of birth. She hated how they made demands of her, how they exercised the power behind their names to make her life more difficult.
She also detested the amount of gold they could command. Unfortunately, that often meant she would do their bidding.
“Your thanks is not needed, Duke Izon,” Astara said. She glanced over toward the sleeping form. “I trust I did not interrupt your leisure.”
The Duke waved his hand. “Worry not about her,” he said. “She knows her place well. Even if she overhears, she knows what loose lips would bring to her and her family.”
“I assume you have need of my services?”
He nodded. “I do,” he said. “Do you know the face of Nalya Ruus?”
Astara raised an eyebrow. “The new Countess of the House of Roses? I have seen her before.”
“Show me,” he said.
Astara sighed. These foolish nobles always questioned her abilities, and it annoyed her to no end. Nonetheless, they commanded the gold she had need for, so she would acquiesce, although she despised herself for it at times.
She stepped over to a mirror and looked into it, concentrating. She watched as her raven-black hair began to shimmer and grow out, turning blonde. She watched her eyes as they shifted from hazel to blue, and the scar upon her brow disappeared. Her lips became thinner, her nose longer. She turned to the Duke.
“Ah, yes,” he said. “Passable from a distance.”
“May I ask for what reason you have me engaging in this masquerade, Duke Izon?”
“Watch your tone with me, Astara,” he said. “I’m already in a foul mood.” He walked around her, scrutinizing her masquerade. “It will do, I think.” He sat down at the desk again.
“You have heard the rumours out of the Disputed Lands?” he asked.
“Of this new breed of Freemen?” She laughed. “Freemen from another world? The very idea is laughable.”
“It may not be,” the Duke replied. “Tonight, I met some of these so-called Freemen. They call themselves Canadians, and they come accompanied by the Countess whose face you now wear.”
“So what will you have of my services?”
“The Countess was leading a force into the Disputed Lands. They were meant only to observe and report on the movements of the Vectoran claim there. But these Canadians seem invested in challenging their claim, and I believe the Countess is lending her aid to them.” He shook his head. “This will not do. I will not have it.”
“Do you wish me to kill them?” she asked.
“No,” he replied. “We cannot simply kill a Countess of Halen, even one who is foreign-born such as her. First, I must know what they plan to accomplish in Cilasia. I want you to infiltrate them and discover what you can. I will lend you the use of my Binar to report back to me.”
Binar. Another thing Astara detested. The filthy talking birds annoyed her to no end.
“And if I am discovered?”
“I am paying you not to be discovered. She travels with four others. If you are discovered by one of them, you have my permission to kill them. But do not let Nalya Ruus discover you, or no bending of light will protect you from me.”
Astara might have rolled her eyes. It was an empty threat. Astara could kill the Duke right then and there, along with the pet laying in his bed, and none would be able to find her. Still, the Duke’s gold was good.
“Very well,” Astara said.
“They sleep tonight at Ableton Hall,” he said. “I have heard rumours of strange wagons that run without the need of beasts to pull it. Discover all that you can before they leave for Cilasia and report back to me, then follow them. I may increase your fees if you bring me valuable information.”
“Your will shall be done, Duke Izon,” Astara said.
“And one more thing,” he said. “The young man that travels with them. He goes by the name of Ryan Stills. He has in his possession an instrument that I desire. Like a lute, but with six strings. I trust you’ll be able to procure it without damage?”
“It will be yours, Duke Izon.”