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Letter of The Law (Steampunk Fantasy)
Ch. 073 - (Now) A Touch of Grandeur

Ch. 073 - (Now) A Touch of Grandeur

Jon had never before seen the table in the main dining room filled to capacity before dinner that night. It was a beautiful sight, even if the only person besides the servants that was dressed for the occasion was Elise. Besides them, everyone else around the imposingly long table was dressed in the browns and beiges of working men, with only a little splash of red or black here and there that were an acknowledgement of their growing movement.

Only she glowed in the candlelight though. Of course, Jon had always thought that she glowed, so he was biased, but tonight while he’d been out talking to the men she’d found a particularly lovely blue dress that had been of Lord Burtons daughter’s until recently. Even if it had been tailored for someone else though, he couldn’t imagine any other woman looking half so good in it. It was a simple, modest thing that revealed her bare shoulders, but hid her breasts as well as her arms down to her wrists with cloth decorated with fine embroidery in white and gray. It was a shame it would have no place where they were going, but he’d make sure that his housekeeper set it aside for them, and they would have someone fetch it after the war was done.

Elise caught him looking at her and smiled knowingly, forcing him to turn his full attention back to the man across the table that was talking to him so as not to get any more distracted than he already was. Tonight supposed to be about discussing logistics and the plan, but he could hardly begrudge his beloved for showing off a bit, since that’s exactly what he was doing. From the room to the menu being served in it, tonight was about reminding his lieutenants and captains where he came from. That was easy enough to forget around a campfire, but at this table, surrounded by wood paneled walls and liveried servants, he couldn’t help but notice that they sat a little straighter and were a little more deferential to him.

“You know she keeps dressing like that and I might have to fight you for her,” Rian said quietly, elbowing Jon to get his attention.

“A fight with me? That’s one you’d lose,” Jon responded with a smile.

“Okay then - how about I wait until you fall in battle - then I can ummm… comfort her in your absence,” Rian said, laughing at his own joke.

“So a fight with her then? You’d definitely lose that one. Maybe you should find a different girl that …appreciates your strange sense of humor.” This time Jon just shook his head, realizing how much he’d missed the incorrigible bastard.

“Me? I’ve got plenty of women,” Rian bragged. “Loads of women. They just aren’t here right now, but I’m sure if you keep us here for a few days I can find someone new.”

Jon made a mental note to leave Dalmarin sooner rather than later for the sake of his village’s virtue. The contrast also served to remind him of what a rough lot they were, though. Every person at this table had suffered at the hands of the kingdom above or the kingdom below, or they would never have joined him. He knew that, but even though he and they came from entirely different worlds he felt far more at ease surrounded by simple people like them than he ever would be by the Burton’s and their ilk.

It was a wonderful occasion. At least until the third course was being served. During the soup alone the assembled group had managed to empty over a dozen bottles of wine. Jon had told the kitchen to just keep it coming, no matter how expensive the bottles got, but even with that order he wondered how many more hours they could drink like this until their limited cellar ran dry.

“So isn’t about time you tell the rest of us your secret plan?” Cristoph said loudly, bringing all the other conversations at the table to a standstill as footmen busied themselves brining in thick slices of beef with horseradish and potatoes.

Jon waited a second, letting the silence build as he put down the knife before he answered. “I’ve told you before Cristoph. I’ve told you all - the secret weapon we’re about to borrow from the dwarves - it’s not something I can explain. You’re going to have to see it to believe it, but that will be soon. Our next stop is the high valleys. Once we're there we can—”

“That ain't what I’m talking about, and you know it Jon,” he said slamming his fist down on the table for emphasis. “I don’t give a fig for this dwarven weapon. If they got some powder there we can steal, that would be nice, but besides that it just sounds like a detour as far as I’m concerned.”

“An important detour though,” Jon clarified, not sure everyone understood exactly why he chose the route he’d chosen. “They’ll be expecting us to come over the pass from the west, which is why we have to detour around to use the tunnel to the north, so we can—”

“I want to know what you’re sending him off to, just before the fighting starts, too,” Cristoph said, raising his voice as he pointed at Rian who sat on his right. “We’re too few men already for your plans, and if you think losing ten of our best just before we test our mettle against the king's own, then I don’t know what to say.”

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For a moment everyone was talking at once. A few other men, including Henrik joined Cristoph, albeit with less enthusiasm, but the rest of the table was pretty solidly on Jon’s side.

“Five men on an important errand that will tip the scales in our favor and—” Jon started to say.

“But how blast it, how? If you can’t trust the men in the room with this secret, how are we supposed to know if you’re hiding anything else from us?” Cristoph asked, trying guilt where bluster had failed.

“I am keeping secrets from you, though. From all of you.” Jon answered with a shrug. “I’ve promised you that I would never spend the lives of my men frivolously the way that the armies of the realm we are fighting will, and I’ve promised you victory no matter what it will cost me. I don’t recall telling you that I would tell you everything. Do you? Henrik? Murray? Anyone?”

No one answered, but every person he asked just shook his head or looked away when he met their eyes. That admission had silenced everyone for a moment, including Cristoph. He’d been trying to work towards this moment like it would be some sort of trump card, but Jon had stepped into the verbal feint, ruining it, and after that he could see the rage boiling over in the other man’s eyes so vividly that Jon probably could have pulled heat from the fire of his fury if he tried.

That idea was enough to make him smile thinly as he considered his options.

Cristoph was no deep thinker, but he was popular among the men and he craved power. Each one of those facts fueled the other in a way that had seen him rise from teamster, to fighter, and finally lieutenant which had forced Jon to include the man in his inner circle even if he didn’t entirely trust him. People who sought out power for its own sake were never to be trusted, but there wasn’t a lot that Jon could do about it now. In less than a week they’d be fighting real battles. Maybe even the battle, and he didn’t want to think about how many of their rank and file fighters he could alienate if he pushed the man away too hard.

After spending a few seconds thinking about his options now that he’d effectively called him out, he quickly decided on one and leaned forward. It might not be the most effective conversational gambit, but it was certainly the funniest one to him.

“I’ll tell you what Christoph, I won’t tell you my secrets, but just this once, I’ll withdraw my claim on this one.” Jon said casually. “Does that work for you?”

“Of course,” the other man answered, obviously suspicious of his sudden change of heart. “I’m all ears.”

“Okay,” Jon dramatically cleared his through. “Rian. You can tell whoever you want to about the plan. I release you from your vow of secrecy.”

Jon’s friend gave him a strange look, and smiled. “Alright. Sounds good to me,” before he went back to eating another bite of his roast.”

“Come on Rian - don’t leave us hanging!” someone said after the silence that followed lasted almost a minute. “Tell us what the secret plan is.”

“Sorry,” Rian said, choking out the word with his mouth full as he reached for a glass of water. He made everyone wait another half minute while he finished chewing and swallowed before he finally said. “It’s personal. I’m afraid I don’t want to share it just yet.”

The reaction around the table was a mixture of groans and laughter as they realized that they’d once again been sucked in by the trickster that was his second in command.

For his part, Jon relaxed and turned back to his meal, while the conversation moved on from secrets to jokes. He never had any doubt. Rian and him were of one mind, both on what needed to happen, and on how others might feel about it. They’d find out when the time was right, and not before. Both of them owed it to the dead that they’d left in their wake.

“Well, I think that went well,” she said, with a mischievous smile one they were alone.

“Oh, you do, do you?” Jon asked skeptically as he closed the door behind him. “Do you think that the hints of mutiny paired better with the roast or the wine?”

“I’m not fancy enough to know the answer to that of course,” she answered coyly, leaning against his bed in a pose that was deliberately provocative. “Let’s just say I enjoyed the way you put a stop to it even more than dessert, and I thought that the jam torte was excellent.”

“Well - the cook does make wonderful cakes,” Jon said, studying his lover’s body from across the room.

“Why don’t you get over here and show me what you’re wonderful at?” Elise asked, her bottom lip pouting slightly.

Jon didn’t need to be asked twice, and he strode toward’s his beloved, with purpose even as his hands busied themselves with his buttons. With every step he snuffed another light with magic, and by the time he reached her, the room was lit only by the stars and a waning slice of moonlight from the south.

“Don’t you want to see how beautiful I am with the dress off?” she gasped as he kissed her neck.

“I know how beautiful you are no matter what you wear,” he growled back at her. “I don’t need light to remind me that your body is a work of art, just like I don’t need to remind you that I’m the only one that will ever get to appreciate it.”

They kissed then, hungrier for each other than they’d been all night. The clothes would come off soon, but right now that wasn’t what they needed. Right now they needed the connection that had been so long denied them, and so it would be more than a minute before they came up for air.

There was no need to rush this moment of reunion though. They had all night.