Whilst Blood and Bright were across the city humiliating various inconsequential and lowly gangsters I was arriving at my cousin’s home. He lived in an extremely ugly little villa balanced right on the edge of one of the outermost noble districts called rather optimistically Gem Chalice. Its most noticeable feature was the marble.... or to be more accurate the marble effect. Real marble was far too expensive for such a lesser scion to afford so he had done his best with… and again I nearly laughed out loud… painted and sculpted Earln wood. Only a few people were vain and stupid enough to commission something like that and my opinion of my cousin, always low, dropped further still.
Stalking along the frost slicked pavement of the Gem Chalice district towards my cousin's villa I was passed by a procession of extravagant coaches and steaming horses of both the flesh and metal varieties but everything from the beasts to the livery was of noticeably low quality. I would have to acquire a copy of the guest list and pass it to my father. I had no doubt it would be useful to him to see who amongst our so-called equals was desperate enough to throw their lot in with the idiots of the Carnival.
As I walked past the fake gilt gates at the end of the road and turned into the street proper I noticed the unobtrusive queue, or at least that’s what they thought it was but... oh by Koth it was just terrible. I actually chuckled at that, it was just SO awful. As one who walks the somewhat shadowed path I know a thing or two about subtlety, subterfuge, stealth and a whole host of other sneaky words starting with s but these wannabe cultists hadn’t got a clue.
Seriously, they had left their coaches as etiquette demands in a line down the entire length of the street, each covered in more gilt and powdered footmen than the last. Then they had gone and cowered under the overhang of some of the smaller manors that nestled up next to the pavement as if the tiny amount of shadow would conceal their garish costumes and clashing colour choices. There they squatted in their sliver of shade, loudly going “shush” when anyone so much as coughed.
The worst part of it all was that it really was a queue meaning that the entire line shuffled forwards every few moments as another noble darted out of the sparse shadows and up to the villa door where they were let inside with a near comic pantomime of subterfuge.
It was embarrassing to everyone involved in every way imaginable and I decided not to take part in it.
Instead I strode past the line entirely ignoring the outraged gasping and spluttering. Reaching the end in seconds rather than hours I pushed the current petitioner away from the door with a two handed shove. Then I lifted my scabbarded sword and, using the pommel, knocked heavily.
Before the bowled over noble could manage more than a stunned “I say!” The cheap carved door swung open and a short slim flunky peered out at me. He wore a long grey smock that I noticed instantly was several seasons out of date, a flat cap that had never been in date and held a large silver tray on which were a pile of what looked like black paper oblongs covered in crude red scrawling.
“Madam, have you come to see the King of the Rabbit People?” Asked the butler in a voice obviously intended to sound loquacious and well bred but I am well bred and he sounded like a two bit actor who’d been at the gin.
I really didn't have time for my cousin's hired help so I simply raised my hand and showed him the signet ring that sat on my middle finger. His eyes went most satisfactorily wide as he looked down at the golden sea lions on their obsidian band (I told you! Sea lions! They look like big fat living mattresses)[38].
“Ah... you...”
I pushed past the stuttering servant and headed into the house. I knew my cousin wouldn't miss a second of his big party, he’d be in the very centre of it lapping up the attention like a gryshk would a bowl of cream, all I would need to do to find him was follow the stink of pretentiousness.
Of course word of my arrival reached him ahead of me. I saw a few maids scurrying back and forth in the distance at intervals, most heading the same way I was and when I got to the ballroom the pair of guards who were flanking the door just bowed and opened it without comment.
A rush of heat and light hit me as I stepped into the packed room from the dark corridor into the glowing ballroom. The air smelled faintly of lilacs which I noted with interest, lilacs weren't cheap, my cousin’s cult was obviously desperate to make a good impression on him. That little bit of flattery would probably have nearly bankrupted them.
I stalked through the party my long black cloak standing out amongst the sea of a thousand catastrophically clashing colours. My sabre was hidden again and my mask hung from my belt, no reason for my dearest cousin to know why I had come just yet.
He wasn’t hard to spot even in the riotous party. He wore an outrageous outfit of shining golden cloth draped over large rings which made him look like a tacky concertina and a huge mask made from something like jade (I'm guessing from what we saw of him that it was actually something much cheaper. I mean his mask was the size of a door, I doubt there’s that much jade in the whole world).
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
I had half expected him to ignore me as I moved through the crowd like a reef shark through a salmon school but even he wasn’t that dumb. Instead as I arrived at his side he turned a pirouette and bowed to me as the crowd of noble women around him oohed and aahed.
“Ah my dearest cousin,” he boomed with false delight. I just fixed him with my second iciest glare.
“I take it Lord Lanin sent you here?” He asked not the slightest bit ashamed or worried instead he sounded almost... eager?
“Yes that's right.” I replied steadily as my hand slowly clasped around my sabres handle, neatly concealed beneath my cloak. Had I underestimated him? Did he lure me here?
“Finally! I always told him that the Carnival would lead our house to greatness,” he turned to his admirers and posed. “I am afraid I shall have to leave you ladies. I must attend to my cousin.”
The assembled women waved and giggled at him as he strode away and I dropped easily into his wake silently stoic to every eye but guffawing on the inside, the idiot thought I was here to reward him!
“I take it your father wants an invitation as well?” asked Francis over his shoulder with a supercilious tone. “I think I might be able to swing him one... maybe... but I’d have to look into it a bit. I may need a month or two.”
I decided to tell him the truth. It is worth me pointing out now dear reader that one can be truthful without being honest.
“Father was... astonished that you joined the Carnival. He asked me to attend this ball the second he found out.”
Here’s a little bit of advice I give all my rats. “Never lie if you can help it instead try to twist the truth. It always has a better ring to it.”
“Of course he did, of course he did!” Bellowed my cousin leading me towards a half concealed staircase set into a bookcase (seriously! Why always with the bookcases?).
I followed him but, just before my foot hit the bottom most stair I felt a sudden electric surge across my skin like I’d touched an aetheric port on a lumina. I stopped and spun around to look up at the gallery of the hall... but all I saw was blazing lights and hanging smoke.
“Something the matter, cousin?” asked Francis disingenuously, obviously taking my instinctive reaction for nervousness.
“No.” I replied and hurried after the wannabe cult master as he led me up the staircase and out onto an empty landing. Passing a few silently scurrying servants we crossed into a long corridor and headed down it into another, then another, then another.
I knew my cousin was trying to disorientate me before our meeting and I knew that because I was the one who taught him to do that. But that wouldn't work on me.
“Francis,” I said sweetly. “Wouldn't that last left have gotten us to your study quicker?”
Even with the mask on I saw his eyes widen, I am the intelligencer of our family line so it’s my job to know everything, including the layouts to all our properties.
“Ah yes of course.” He muttered, turning back and leading us down it.
A single turn later and we stood before a small but thickly ornamented door which opened with nothing more than a light push, the moron didn't even lock his private study!
As we entered Francis gestured me towards a seat then strode over to the fireplace where he struck a pose, I was genuinely impressed by the recovery powers of his ego. I ignored the chair and looked around the room. Unlike my own study which was somehow both messy and sparse, this was filled with tasteless knickknacks and neatly filed stacks of paper. I distrusted that instantly, anyone who really kept on top of the political game in Prasus didn't have time to file.
“Help yourself to a drink cousin.” He said with a smile pulling off his mask and dropping it onto an enormous lacquered stand next to his desk.
I of course didn't drink, or smile, just stood silently as he turned to regard the fire. “You must tell your father that he can't expect many more favours after this, getting an invitation to the Carnival is hard,” his voice dripped with pretension and I had to fight the urge to punch him. “After all those enlightened few who wait in the shadows are the ones who truly rule this city.”
“Is that what they told you?” I asked belligerently, no matter what I thought of him, two members of our house could never be seen to disagree in public, behind closed doors is another story of course. “The Carnival hasn’t existed for five minutes they’re just a group of wannabes and has-beens who try to drag in the desperate and stupid with promises of power.”
Francis didn't turn to face me but I could see from the straining muscles in his neck that this was a significant effort.
“The Carnival is the greatest power of this city so of course they lead others to believe that they are new or weak. But their resources are...”
“...Are extensive in terms of flowers and seeds because they were founded by a cartel of grain merchants,” I snapped. “You’re taking orders from a green grocer.”
“NEVER!” He bellowed turning to face me at last, I could see the light of true madness dancing in his eyes. “I never take orders! I chose to join them! I performed the initiation...”
“Oh and don't get me started on that,” I hissed, my voice all the sharper for its lack of volume. “Burning down a slum and massacring innocent peasants? I thought that the report I got about the Rose Hill disaster was rather light on details but what I had never suspected was that you would be this insane!”
“You speak as all the nonbelievers do!” He howled slamming a fist into the copper lintel, “you are nothing compared to me; I am the lord of the shadows! I will rule this city...,” he paused and took a deep ragged breath. “...Why did father send you here for his invitation if you can't even see the truth?”
I smiled without humour and shrugged my cloak open. Reaching to my belt I drew out my mask and slipped it on the pure black skull sliding easily over my face, “I think, dear cousin, that you have misunderstood my reasons for being here tonight.”
Francis recognised the mask of course and what it meant. Shaking with fear he staggered away raising his arms to shield himself. “But... but... I’m supposed to rule... you can't! YOU CAN'T!”