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How to Tame your Eldrich Horror
13-Walking in the Dark

13-Walking in the Dark

“Ouch…” I winced, but my heart wasn’t on it.

Fun fact; dark crammed tunnels are not the nicest of places to stroll around barefooted. That said, It is hard to care much for the pain of stepping on pointy pebbles when you’ve been at it for hours.

“I really hope you appreciate what I am doing here.” I mutter to my unconscious passenger, “Not that I think you’ll become nice all of the sudden, but at the verry least you should stop sending people to harass me, you know? My brother is going to get a stroke if it keeps happening... That is, if he doesn’t get a stroke after he founds out about this mess… He always has been the more sensitive out of us. He took it the worst when mom… Ouch… Dam pebbles… I mean to say, he never was quite the same after mom’s; he shut in inside dad’s library for months, and became verry ‘dependent’ on Drake and I… Anyway, it took us a while to broke him out of his shell enough for him to come to the academy so, if we could have our little quarrel without involving him, I would much appreciate it… Not that you are listening, of course… Dammit! Is just like Jake said, I shouldn’t have involved myself with you! Me and my mouth! How in the world did you managed to tangle us with a bunch of Agorian cultists!? But it is bad form to go around plucking other people’s eyeballs! Noble or not, you can’t get away with it! Then again, you just did…”

I shiver, recalling her bloody visage plucking much more than eyeballs out of a cultist’s face.

“Please don’t eat me when you wake up.” I repeated my mantra.

The tunnel stretched for a few miles before forking in twine. I continued to my left, using my surprisingly durable candle to feel out the air currents. A little later my stamina started to flag after hours of tunnels and pebbles, so I chose to take a break near a support beam.

This was probably one of the many abandoned mine shafts near the city. Aprabat’s lower peaks and the Deadfrost mountain range farther east were a region rich in coal, focus-stones and stale-slate. I suspected that was the only reason our kingdom bother disputing the territory to the deadly barbarian’ clans.

I try to let her down only to gagged as my shirt slurped, the partially coagulated blood sticking our clothes together. After wiggling for a few disgusting minutes, I managed to peal her away and deposit her against a wooden column.

“Miss, for a lady, you sure make a mess when you eat...” again, I shivered.

Shaking my head, I rested my back against the wooden beam Infront of hers, leaving the candle between us. Under its eerie red light, I could almost forget that we were covered in blood.

“Yes, I know that there are maybe a bunch of homicidal cultists looking for us and we only have this one candle to navigate the dark tunnels, but I need a break!” I told Richia’s unconscious body, “My head hurts something fierce and I been carrying your cute royal backside for miles, so excuse me if I take a few minutes for myself! Besides, if you are that desperate to continue, you can be the one carrying this hot butt of mine for a change!”

I took her silence for cowed acceptance.

“No?! That’s what I thought!” I snorted, then hurriedly added, “Sorry for that. I run my mouth when I’m nervous. Please don’t eat me.”

Only after thoroughly confirming that she was still unconscious, I dare to sigh in relief and recline my head on the wood. The old shaft beams were sotty, but they were much more tolerable than the cold, moist stone of the walls.

“There…” I breathe relaxing my numbed legs and closing my eyes against my thrumming head, “… I just need a moment…”

*

I waved Jake off as the clerk took me through a guarded archway, down a set of stairs and half way and aisle full of doors. He knocked on one in particular, exchange a few words with another servant inside and left me into his care, all without any input from my part. Many times I tried to ask this other servant what exactly was going on, but the man just ignored me, marching as off through a labyrinth of gaudy halls, stopping here and there to inquire with other servants.

He apparently found what he needed from an old housemaid and guided me with all haste into a lush inner courtyard; truly a beautiful place with flowerbeds blooming with roses and clear waters burbling on ornate fountains. People poshier than posh-guy strolled around in private conversation. I took in the view from where we stood discreetly under an open corridor’s canopy… Not that I could do much else mind you; we stood there for a while.

A couple times I tried to make conversation with my minder, but the man ignored me to look pointedly towards a couple of older gentlemen talking on a bench. Ultimately, I shrugged and entertained myself with the beautifully dressed ladies milling about in their frills, ribbons, and, more importantly, huge cleavages.

So caught out was I imagining how Jane would fill in one of those dresses, that I almost missed my silent minder strolling into the courtyard. I of course followed and soon we found ourselves standing near the bench, where now only one gentleman sat.

The servant bowed, said something I couldn’t catch and passed my recommendation letter to the older men, who in turn inspected the parchment while throwing glances at me. His steely gaze reminded me somewhat of my dad’s, so I instinctively followed my guide into a bow.

“You are Graham’s kid?”

“Yes sir.”

“Hmm... I don’t know what the good captain saw in you, boy, but you are too young for this. No one will take you seriously.”

Uh oh, now this was a pickle. I have been through enough jobs to know what was going on here; This guy was already testing me, and because of my age he already doubted my credentials. If I asked him what the hell this was all about, I would be displaying my ignorance which could easily mean that I was out of the game…

‘Nope, I needed the gig,’ I thought. ‘Double down first, ask questions later’

“Don’t threat sir,” I stated in my best imitation of dad’s iron clad confidence, “I am capable enough to make my voice heard.”

The gentleman sniffed.

“No, in those rags you are not. Sergrave, find young Grahamson suitable attire and take him to governess Bishard, let her decide what to do with him.”

“Yes, lord Chamberland.”

Wait, just like that?

“Good luck, young Grahamson. For what is worth, I hope you are the one that takes this problem out of my hair.”

“Y-yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

And, that was a dismissal… Just, what was going on here?

The servant, Sergrave, took me through yet another tour of the castle grounds, this time to the servant’s wardrobes where, in a matter of minutes, an imperious seamstress fit me almost perfectly in green frack, black breaches and a ridicule jabot.

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“I couldn’t do better in such a short notice.” she said to my minder, while slapping my hand away from my neck.

“It’ll have to do.” Sergrave said, gravely, of course.

“Don’t worry guys, I’ll make up for the rest with sheer charm” I wink at the seamstress.

“Cheecky brat, heh?” the buxom woman snorted, then looked at Sergrave, “So, they are trying with a pretty face now? Do you think It’ll work?”

“Who are we to question our betters?” the servant shrugged, “Come along master Grahamson.”

And with those words I had almost no time to thank the seamstress for her ministrations before chasing after the taciturn Sergrave, not for the first time wandering what in the name of all the spirits had I sign up for!

No, this couldn’t go on. It was pass time I got some answers, but I needed to be discrete about it, else I’ll tip the castle staff I had no idea what I was doing. Fortunately, I had just the thing to clue out this mess... Well, the servant had it.

“Ahem… Master Sergrave, could I bother you for sir Captain’s letter?”

Sergrave nodded, gravely, giving me back the captain’s letter, now with its seal opened. Surreptitiously, I let myself lag a couple paces behind his purposeful gait, and started reading:

“Honorus gratings from… yada, yada, yada… in this year of his majesty… yada, yada, yada… for the grace of our lord Count Aprabat…yada, yada, yada… hereby I bring the barer of this letter, young Blake Grahamson, to the illustrious attention of Lord Chamberland Cabaris in recommendation to the vacant post under dear Madam Bishard's purview. Despite his young age I have judged Master Grahamson's character to be more than adequate for the necessary tasks. I swerve thus under the good name of the house of Fiorla. Sincerely Augustus Ciregov of Fiorla, Guard Captain to Aprabats Hold Count’s detachment. May the spirits watch your way.”

Huh… If I remember correctly the captain had composed the letter verry quickly. It was kind of impressive he had time to put in all those pleasantries, and in perfect calligraphy no less. Too bad it was completely useless for determining what kind of mess had he dragged me into. Worse, I was sure he had kept the wording vague in case it was stolen or something like that… Damn his paranoid ass!

“Young Grahamson.”

“Y-yes, master Sergrave?”

“We are here.” The man told me as he knocked his way into an alcove covered in sky blue silks to talked with a pair of standing maids, one of whom immediately disappeared between the curtains.

A sob and a distress female voice came from whence she went. I threw an inquiring look to my guide, but he remained as impassive as ever. Suddenly, a pair of curtains were thrown open revealing a tall woman in her thirties wearing a sky-blue dress, in match with the rest of the room.

She was a bit on the plump side but I would still call her attractive, if her snubby little nose wasn’t puff red and her cheeks black with tear smeared makeup. I had only the fraction of a second to take all of this in before she zoomed in a rattle of heels and tackled me into a hug. I gain a new appreciation for the nobility’s fashion sense as my face went straight into her perfumed cleavage. I was so appreciative in fact, that I barely heard her crying in gratitude.

Too soon, a peeved Sergrave cough into his hand, startling her ladyship into extricating me from those comfy pillows.

“Pardon my manners.” The woman curtsied, suddenly all business “I am Sara of House Bishard, it is a pleasure to meet you master Grahamson.”

“T-the pleasure is all mine. I am Blake, son of Graham, Court Magus to Count Aprabat…” taken aback by her sudden closeness and subsequent change in demeanor, I found myself bowing back to her, my body falling into the court manners father had drilled into my brothers and I.

“Oh dear…” she sobbed, her voice again cracking with emotion, “such a young gentleman…”

I threw an alarm look to Sergrave. Attractive or not, Miss Bishard’s mood swings were starting to scare me. The servant of course, didn’t even glance my way. Then my eyes jolted back to her as she took my hands into her own.

“Oh, Master Grahamson!” she cried, “I have been alone at this for months! No one wanted to help me and I was starting to believe no one would! So many capable people came and left… and kept leaving…” then she was back in her professional continence, “Of course I do not blame them; the future of the county is no light burden to shoulder…” then she almost broke in tears again, “I will understand if you don’t want to, but please, please, please, at least consider working for me!”

“Uh…” I eloquently put, my brain struggling to follow along. Wasn’t I supposed to be the one begging for the cushy job at the castle? “lady Sara I…”

Something wasn’t right here. This whole ordeal was smelling fishier by the second, I needed to step down, collect myself and ask some questions… I needed to do that, but… She was leaning closer to me, giving me a first sit view of her teary big eyes filled with hope, the elegant curve of her neck and the perfumed valley of softness bellow…

“I am at your service, madam.” I knelt, planting a kiss to the back of her hand, then I turn to gaze sweetly into her eyes in my best shining knight impression, “Threat not, I am here to ease your heart from all that ills it so.”

“Such a decent young man!” she cried, hugging me once more, “Just as my husband said! I knew I could count on you!”

“Humsbom~?!” came my muffled voice, followed by another irritated cough from Sergrave.

“Oh, I am so sorry dear! I didn’t quite catch what you said there!” She pulled me out of her embrace, straightening my clothes.

“Husband!?” I repeated, dumbstruck.

“Ah! Of course! How could I have forgot? I think you already meet my Augustus. He is captain of the city guard. I have heard only grate things of you!”

My floored head had to work overtime to clench my mouth from gaping at her. This woman was the captain’s wife!? How could that work!? She was so liberal with the hugs and he was such a hard ass…! No, no, head in the game Blake!

“I-I see…” I said coming back to my feet, stiff as a board, “I h-had no idea the captain thought so highly of me.”

“Oh, I am sure Augustus thinks the world of you!” she beamed.

I almost sighed in relief; apparently, she didn’t pick on my attempt to flirt with her. Good, captain ‘I’ll send you dig the rest of your life at the mines’ had no need to know what I just did. I’ll just play this off as if nothing happened…

*Cough, cough*

Came a judgmental rasp from Sergrave.

I said I’ll play this off as if nothing happened! Stop squinting at me like that!

Fortunately, lady Sara must have misunderstood the gesture, for she too cleared her throat and said;

“You are right of course, Master Sergrave. I should not be boasting about my family like a common housewife. We must talk business.” She elegantly dabbed her eyes by tapping a handkerchief in the manner ladies did to preserve their makeup, the fact hers was already ruined didn’t stopped her from regaining her earlier professionalism, “You are to be my righthand-man: you will work alongside Sergrave here, reporting directly to me whenever you see trouble brewing…”

“E-excuse me lady Sara.”

“Yes, what is it, dear boy?”

“Would you perhaps mind specifying as to what kind of trouble might I expect in this… ahem… profession?”

I asked in a desperate grab for any information to what was I walking into, after all, this might be my last chance to refuse.

Madam Bishard nodded heavily, and said to me with a grimace;

“As you know, you must always be alert for any and all behavior that may lower the standing of the Count’s house. In particular, you must be on guard to prevent any of those terrible rumors that so often breed in these circles. You will have to act as to stop any behavior that may incite them in the first place.”

I was intrigued; What did she mean ‘lower the standing of the Count’s house’? How was I supposed to stop rumors from spreading? Was I to be some sort of inner spy like I imagined? Manipulating information so as to prevent foreign interest to undermined the count’s authority? Was the guard’s captain wife some sort of spy master, like in Rouge Roge against the Minister of Shadows!?

Deciding to remain on the cautious side, I asked;

“I-I am afraid you have the advantage of me, what kind of rumors are we talking about, madam?”

By that point in our conversation, I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still annoyed me when she somehow completely missed my point.

“Exactly, Master Grahamson! You must not even acknowledge the filthy rumors! But forget not to be always prepared for them, else more appear. Is always like that in polite society, rumors spread like the plague whenever one looks away. You must always be ready to mitigate them insidious nature else the good standing of a house earned in generations be tarnished in a fortnight…”

‘Lady Sara’ I thought, ‘All this rumor stuff is verry interesting and all but, would you mind giving me some freaking precisions about what we are doing here?!’ I was about to damn all consequences and ask exactly that, when my ears perk at a point on her explanation.

“… you would have to be available at all times of day, but of course you will be appropriately compensated for your time and discretion; you will be hosted here at the castle, receive a monthly stipend of eighty-seven denary, with forty paid in advance, and of course all the prestige associated with serving a grate house…”

Eighty-seven denary a month! My eyes almost became coins at those numbers! With that kind of money, I would be able to settle my debts before the change of season, leaving off plenty for me and Blake to live comfortably for the rest of this year! Hell, if I worked at this for a couple seasons, I might be able to buy a new focus-stone!

I wisely shut my trap. If there was any chance my ignorance would paint me as unfit for the job, I couldn’t take it. This last resolution of mine must had an ironic sense for timing, for it came to me just as Madam Bishard rapped up her sales pitch with an innocent;

“…do you have any questions?”

“When do I start?”

Hey! Don’t look at me like that! I can always learn the ropes on the march!