Harrant marched up the street towards the closed iron gate of the local barracks. The crowd's attention was drawn to him just by his passing as heads followed his every movement. Men and women both were looking up at him whenever they thought he wouldn't notice, looking up at the man who stood a good head taller than anyone else on the street at that moment. He met a couple of their eyes out of boredom, relishing the faint terror when they got caught, or the ones who averted their gaze quickly like they could pretend they hadn't just been looking. It's not like he didn't know they were all curious about him. He had just moved on from caring.
He approached a set of thick iron bars that obscured the man on the other side. The bars were so closely set together that Harrant could barely see the tip of the crossbow bolt he knew was pointed at him from the other side as the guard addressed him.
“Halt. What business do you have here.”
“I have business with your Gate Sergeant, guardsman.”
“You wish to meet with Rollins?”
“Rollins? Has your Sergeant changed recently?”
“Uh, yes sir! The last Gate Sergeant just got promoted to Barracks Sergeant a month ago I think.”
“Hah! The bastard never told me! Now go have someone tell the Barracks Sergeant that Doug is looking for him. He'll know it's me.”
The guard made a gesture to someone else beside the gate that Harrant couldn't quite see, so he settled in with his back to the wall for a bit of a wait.
“Guardsman, what's your name?” He called over his shoulder through the grates.
“I'm Private First Class Zo, sir.”
“Stop calling me sir before we both get in trouble, Zo.” He hesitated a moment until he thought he saw a nod from the boy on the other side. “Zo is a Free Peoples name, isn't it?”
“Yes sir- I mean, Doug?”
“What's a free-man like you doing up in the guard these days?”
“My Ma was from the mountains, but I never grew up there. Figured I might be able to do some service to the Prince since I've been living in the city my whole life.”
“How…admirable.” Harrant let the words roll off his tongue genuinely. At least the boy had a good heart for the position.
Behind him he heard another man give an order, “Open the gate!”, and the massive iron fence started swinging inward on its hinge. Harrant nodded to the boy on the other side as he took in the slightly raised cheekbones that marked his people's parentage, then carried on to the other side. Another tall man stood there, only a short bit smaller than Harrant himself, hands at his hips as he waited for the visitor to join him. He wore the green tapered dress uniform with matching olive suit top and bottom looking only a little bit unusual on the obvious body of a soldier.
Harrant started to greet him while he was still walking, “You didn't tell me you were a Barracks Sergeant now!”
“And you haven't come to visit in a good couple months either. Get stuck doing some time in a local jail?”
“You're the one stuck behind metal bars every day.” Harrant pointed over his shoulder at the gate closing behind him.
The man across from him finally broke into a smile, and the two reached over into a solid embrace clapping each other on the back before they started walking further into the garrison.
“I'd ask if you've been keeping out of trouble, but I probably already know the answer.” the man asked.
“I suppose you do know me well enough. Not much has changed, huh?”
“Only difference is, if you ever do get caught I'll have to be the one that swats your ass instead of dad. So please, please don't force me into that position.”
“Don't get caught. Got it” Harrant nudged his brother with his elbow as the two of them chuckled. The barracks sergeant guided them around a corner and into a mid sized office where several other soldiers worked at desks. They either wrote in small journals or poured over shared diagrams of formations from what Harrant could see on the desks. The Harrant brothers stopped at a larger desk at the back of the room.
“So Doug, we both know you don't just visit for nothing. So whatcha need this time?” The two men sat on opposite sides of the desk as they continued.
“Need? I mean, that's such a strong word for things isn't it?”
Harrant's brother just fixed him with a solid stare as he waited for him to speak
“Alright, alright. I might have gotten into a bit of a bind ya see? My employer sort of left suddenly without making good on our contract, leaving me and my team a bit strung out for gold at the moment.”
“You've come here to beg me for money?”
“No. I've come to beg you for work.”
“You know we don't work with sell-swords here Doug.”
“I mean, really? You're even the Barracks Sergeant now! You're telling me you can't just bend a few rules?”
The sergeant sat forward in his seat, steepling his hands in front of his mouth as his eyes went hard.
“No. I actually, physically can't. But, the garrison needs more folks Doug.”
“That's hardly fair Chris. You'd leave your own brother out to dry?”
“My offer from last time still stands, you're a good fighter Doug, and I could use more fighters.” Chris lifted his chin in the direction of the soldiers working behind him.
“Yeah, and leave my men out in the cold, right?”
Chris sat there for a moment, thinking, before he pursed his lips and continued. “I'm in a position to offer more this time Doug. Take your team with you and I can at least give you your own squad formation within the unit, maybe even a section.”
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It was Doug's turn to hesitate. This was far better than he was expecting, but some old part of him still didn't like the idea of working with the Princedom directly.
“You'd give me leadership of half a platoon, just like that?”
“Oh hell no! You'd have them deserting within a month Doug, I'm not stupid. But a special flex squad that may or may not exist slightly outside of the normal rank structure? That could work.”
“No way you have that much pull Chris.”
“I don't, but the garrison commander might. Give me a day or two and come back if you're still interested. I'll be able to tell you then if my offer still stands.”
“You're desperate, aren't you?” Doug asked.
“It's a trying time for all of us now isn't it?” Chris asked, “Especially if Doug Harrant is willing to come back to the Prince of Whispers for a bit of coin.”
‘Oh, you really have no idea how true that is yet Chris. No idea at all.’ Harrant thought.
Doug looked down at the ground for a moment and saw a small flash of purple light disappear around the corner of the desk. Satisfied with the visit, Doug stood up to leave before too much got brought up.
“I'll see you in a couple of days then brother.”
He held out a fist towards the man, which Chris quickly stood up and punched with his own fist. Neither of them could contain their smiles as each man considered the fact they might just be saving their brother from a terrible fate with this deal. At least one of them was correct.
—
Mathew held up the red handkerchief towards the manor guards for them to inspect the lettering on the front of it. A thin black suit clung to his wrist in a way that would be more befitting of a warrior than a servant, but that might just be because Dei always thought that the man looked like an elderly lumberjack. Still, he must have looked the part as the men quickly waved the two of them into the grounds, directing Matthew to talk to a steward at the main doors.
As for Dei, she wore a similar but more loosely fitted suit with a matching black top and bottom. The only difference was that her hands were covered in a delicate black satin pair of gloves, as well as a black head dress that hid every inch of her skull behind a thick white mask that was as plain as it was awkward. Even though the pieces were obviously intended to be tailored for practicality instead of fit, they were still quite a bit tighter than any of the other clothing she had worn in the past, leading her to make certain, experimentations, with her body.
A little bit of padding on her hips helped give her something to hold the pants up despite the belt, but the real problem was the dress shirt. A quick bit of market research had revealed that servants couldn't always guarantee they'd be allowed to keep their jackets on at all times. With the current fashion requiring that even female servants tuck in their shirts, Dei had to rearrange a couple of her ribs in order to make it all work. In the meantime if she added a bit more definition to the way her chest area looked while wearing a dress shirt, well, perhaps she wanted to look like she had at least some meat on her bones for once.
Upon her final checks in the mirror posted near the front of a tailor's shop, she decided that she looked normal. Normal was in many ways a vast improvement over the spritely wick of a body that she had suffered the last couple months. Although she did feel somewhat ashamed that it was all just smoke and mirrors at the end of the day. If it stopped drawing people's attention to her twig-like stature, then that was worth it. As long as Dei never had to suffer the embarrassment of anyone seeing the cup shaped bony appendages she had to craft to mimic her former assets.
As they made their way across the open courtyard, Dei's hips swayed only a little bit unnaturally as she slowly adjusted to the new gait of her body. Clean white cobblestones stretched from the manor gates to the main building, creating an almost opposite effect to the sprawling gardens of the Jocell home. Instead of flowers and pergolas overgrown with vines across the thin walkways, the Brent courtyard was home to alternating patterns of black and white stone tiles allayed in massive designs over the open courtyard.
Off to the side a small group of soldiers in deep maroon uniforms sparred on the open rock tiles, dancing back and forth with wooden swords as a teacher made comments on their footwork. To the left Dei could make out a small barn area with several carriages stowed away under a massive awning. ‘They’re at least a practical family, aren't they?’ Dei thought to herself.
A man in matching servants clothing opened the door to the estate as they approached, ushering them into the main foyer. Once again, the Brent family had lain an ornate design of a wolf's head howling at the moon into the polished tile floor near the entrance. Before they could get very far however, the steward reached out and grabbed Dei by the shoulder of her jacket, wheeling her back in to face him as the door closed behind them.
“Girl, what have you done to lord Julius?”
Matthew stepped between the two of them, casually separating the steward from his target
“Oh, so is this scam actually your plan?” The steward asked Matthew.
“Whatever are you talking about, steward?” He responded.
“Don't act dumb. Its obvious that neither of you have any real training on courtly etiquette, so why does one of my aspiring lords suddenly bring two unvouched servants into his employment without even consulting me? So I ask again. What. Have. You. Done?”
“That'll be enough of that Gerald.” A voice called out from above. Dei turned to take in the speaker as she found Julius bent over the stairwell railing with his elbows held casually on the ledge. “You're right though, they're not your average servants. Which is why you're going to teach them.”
Julius started walking down the stairs to join them, a covered servant woman with a similar mask as Dei’s trailing after him.
“My lord, this is hardly proper for any servants of the high houses.” Gerald began.
“I know, I know.” Julius waved his hand absently as he joined the group near the door. “But I need them, or at least just her to be able to accompany me soon.”
“But my lord! You already have one elbow servant assigned to you! To have another one assigned by your side would do nothing but draw attention to your excess.”
“It doesn't matter Gerald. Lady…” he looked at Dei for a moment before continuing, “...Denise needs to be able to accompany me, and the courts can make up whatever rumors they may choose to explain the change.”
“Lady Denise?” Gerald looked into the holes of the mask she wore, searching for the person underneath. Hopefully none of the pale light from Dei's eyes could be seen through the tight gauze she had stretched over the holes. “My lord, have you brought a ma-”
“Yes Gerald, I have. Which is why I want her to accompany me from now on. As soon as she can do so without drawing attention to herself.”
“Ah.” The steward remained perfectly still with his hands clasped behind his back as he had since the lord had arrived. Still, she could see a hint of understanding in those eyes, mixed among the anger that barely simmered below the surface. “My lord, I cannot promise that the training will not be arduous for the girl, especially if you want her to be ready any time soon.”
“Understood. Though I think you'll find her a bit more resilient than you would expect.” Julius winked at her, then reached into his pocket to withdraw another maroon handkerchief. With a curt step forward he placed the pre-folded piece of red cloth into her jacket pocket then stepped back a polite distance. “To remember me by, dear.”
He turned around, closing the conversation with a mere gesture as he returned up the stairs alongside his shadow. Dei watched him climb to the second floor with a strange mix of annoyance and curiosity in her heart. This lord Julius was indeed an interesting bed-fellow for her plans; so long as he could stick up to his end of the bargain. Pausing at the top of the stairs, he turned sideways to give her one last glance before he left.
“And Denise? I think it might be best if you stopped gelling your hair down so tightly beneath the head scarf. It makes you practically look bald behind your mask.” The man finally disappeared down the open hallway behind him, and out of sight.
Dei returned her gaze to the cold glare emanating from the master servant across from her. He might at least understand a bit of what was happening now, but that did nothing to make him any more excited about the prospect. To her left, she noticed that Matthew had already started holding his hands behind his back in a similar fashion to the steward.
‘Oh, he's gonna have so much fun with this, isn't he?’ Dei thought.