9.4
Jewel looked at the finery draped baron before her.
He had white and blue fabric, shining silver pins and clasps for his jacket. The legs of his dressing were tight enough to show the muscle of his calves and a hint of the thigh.
But then the rest draped in what was a thin cloth imitation of proper maile. Like her father’s ceremonial metal armor, but even less substantial for its use of sometimes sheer cloth. Hints of gold thread had been stitched along the sleeves and torso.
His garments proclaimed his wealth, the colors spoke of his house. Matching the heraldry of his city and barony, blue field with a silver and white gauntlet holding a burning wreath in black braid and red flame. Although his finery was noble it complemented and mirrored the more functional armor of his footmen in a way that spoke well. But his house had been notably absent from the muster against the high king.
Jewel had tried to fit every single detail of each Vassal into her head. And now she was trying to recall everything she knew about the man before her and his place in Viznove.
The crier echoed the title she already knew.
“Presenting, Lord Lukas of Ogien. Of House Ogien, Keeper of the flame spring of Ogien and the lands and farms of its banks.”
He was lord of the city and the river of the same name. The city, manor and fortress was straddled on a hill by a bend of the Ogien river where it turned around the mountain of the Moot, the only pillar of the Skyvault within Viznove proper. He also held the lands north and east along one tributary into the mountains and the surrounding valleys. The villages in those territories all belonged to this man.
Ogien was the richest of the cities that were not on the Vah itself. Trade and wealth mostly collected in the city after coming down the Ogien, with only a few goods flowing downriver to join the Vah.
He stood before her but did not acknowledge Jewel with a proper bow, just the courtesy dip of the head of a guest in her home.
Jewel considered the man and what she had been able to read.
The currents were not as gentle in the Ogien as the Vah’s course south of Kaeketeh and it was written that although water travel upriver was possible it was hard enough that trade had to mostly go over land for goods that flowed along Vah elsewhere in Viznove. However such a position meant that little made north of Ogien ever traveled the waters of the Vah either.
The Barony of Ogien and the numerous vassalages and alliances which it held had cohered into the largest block of holdouts to recognition of Jewel’s assumption of the County and all who had sworn fealty to it.
That so many of them were along the very road to Rochford from Kaeketeh made her fire itch to burst free.
But Paul and Mother insisted this was an opportunity as well.
“I greet you Lady Jewel, Countess and Shining Wyrm of Viznove.”
That he left off even an acknowledgement of fealty to her was setting the tone of this meeting.
This would be one of many exchanges to try and sway him.
If Jewel could satisfy and bring Lukas to bend the knee then he would pressure all who aligned with him as well.
The position of Ogien as the gate to the numerous tributaries at its headwaters would secure the majority of the County. Just one man who stood tall below her gaze held the key to settling Jewel’s inheritance of the title and would free her to focus on cleaning up Kaeketeh.
She kept her tone soft and civil.
“And I greet you Lord Lukas, Baron of Ogien, Keeper of the flame spring.”
The way he smelled as he smiled up at her was far too much like Fizzbunches's smugness for him to not be completely aware of the position he held.
“Certainly the fortunes must have held a long gaze on the Countess, Jewel of Viznove. To be married and then less then a year later inherit so much under such circumstances? My condolences to the loss of your predecessor. But you seem to have put quite the will into cutting free the rot in Kaeketeh.”
This was not the usual meeting behind closed doors, Jewel did not trust herself to Bathory’s old study. That room was absolutely tiny.
But it was also not the full pomp of a proper officious meeting steeped in tradition and long practice with all matters properly and fully settled beforehand. The Feasting hall was meant for such but it had been slowly but surely commandeered to be as much a place of judgment, feasting and official ceremony as Jewel’s impromptu study.
The ill fitting nature of it all drew another pang of longing for Jewel’s manor house, with its properly sized rooms.
She nodded to the man, who had brought four footmen into the chamber.
“Yes, the treachery against the countess bathory and the people of Kaeketeh ran very deep indeed. More so than even I realized until after the sorcery had done its work.”
Lukas of Ogien nodded and his smile was bright. He smelled of fear, as any stranger might. Jewel recognized his scent from the wedding but at the time she had not really needed to consider any of the nothings and flattery he gave.
He smelled of fear, but resolve, pride and an assurance that left her certain he was confident in this meeting.
Jewel was presenting that she was a humble liege. Giving him permission to acknowledge it.
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“That is the risk of sorcery, I can understand the concern and need for expedience given the nature of poor Bathory’s death. But such magic is like a fire, it must be carefully used lest it spark and spread far.”
Jewel held herself as she should, as she had gotten practice with the Vassals of the Vah and those smaller territories more local to Kaeketeh.
Mother and Paul had helped give her pointers as well.
“I agree wholeheartedly Lord Lukas, I am not intending to enact such a working in pursuit of justice in the foreseeable future. It is an act best kept to only the most severe of crimes.”
This was the problem with having a feasting hall used for quiet meetings.
Both of them had their footmen present.
Both of them had to speak for themselves, their demesnes and the eyes which watched.
Dismissing their guards under the present tensions within Viznove was absolutely improper. But what needed to be discussed desperately required that they speak plainly.
However instead of being able to do such things they had to do this! Unfortunately, Jewel felt that of the two of them Lord Lukas was the far better practiced at the game of courtly intrigue and subtle negotiations under veiled politeness.
“Just so, Still it pains me to see Kaeketeh being bled so, but I am sure under your gentle ministrations it will heal back all the healthier, in time.”
Jewel was honestly not sure if she would rather be dealing with the guilds or this man.
“The sooner all of Viznove is whole and secure again from the trials she has been tested with, the sooner I can focus on Kaeketeh in full. I understand that you have come to present how I may give aid to the sheltered interior of my dominion and its peerage?”
That was perhaps a bit brash and abrupt, but Jewel did not want to spend days on this, they had already spent an entire evening on propriety in Lukas’ welcoming feast.
There was proper and then there was blatant delay.
He offered a sharper smile than before, and Jewel could smell the triumph on him. She tried raising a brow the way Bathory once did.
“Ah of course, to business then. It is abundantly clear that the present Countess and her household are less circumspect with the applying of Sorcery to the needs of Viznove? The late Bathory, may she remain resting peacefully.”
Jewel joined him in dipping her own head and offered her own strength to the fervent wish.
“May she remain resting peacefully.”
Lukas raised from the quite understandable prayer. Of anyone that would be a terrifying force to face as a revenant Bathory was one Jewel hoped to never see.
“However her quietude aside, your predecessor was unwilling to offer the recent bounty of Viznove in matters of sorcery in aid to the people of her land. I am to understand that in your father’s own demesne a Sorcerer of some skill performs work upon the waters of Rochford?”
Jewel considered, she had not been expecting this. He smelled hopeful, perhaps a little greedy, but not overly so given what she had tasted of the man in the air so far.
“Yes, that is so. House Rochford retains the service of the Weird Tsulogothulan for-”
She had to count a moment, letting the time settle upon her.
“Eleven more years. Although if I recall correctly the fields of the Ogien hardly should have want for water?”
The man smiled even wider and the triumph had just about conquered the rank undercurrent of his fear. He showed a great deal of bravery to not betray his feelings like that, his face was bright, hardly even a hint of the tumult she could taste in his scent. He dipped his head lower than that called for merely as a guest. The first hint of even acquiescing to his place as her vassal yet.
“Oh certainly not, our fields are irrigated and watered well by the Ogien and it nourishes the fields heartily, blessed by the flame spring itself. But as nourishing and vitalizing as the waters of the Ogien are, I am sure my lady is aware it is quite a wild thing.”
Jewel had never seen for herself just how ‘wild’ any river could be. She’d barely even known what one was until she first saw the Vah.
But the books, letters, Paul and her parent’s counsel all said it was so.
“As says the Lord Ogien.”
Whatever his bid was Jewel could smell that the Lord of Ogien was nearing his triumph. The anticipation, the fear, the excitement. It was all building in him. It practically was pouring into the air from his nervous sweat.
“Given the new freedom with which the Countess Wyrm dispenses sorcery, it is the hope that the deprivation of her predecessor in this matter will be corrected, and that it would be in the benevolence of the Shining Wyrm of Viznove to aide her people in peace as well as war. Especially while she retains the services of a Sorcerer and Wizard suited to the task.”
Jewel took a deep breath, letting out one of the sighs she had often felt the need to. Slow and steady, the air not taking even a lick of wyrmflame, but still she could see how it billowed around Lukas. His fear went even sharper and more acrid even as she blew it back from her nose.
“If the Lord Ogien would speak plainly of what task he wishes Tsulogothulan to perform in exchange for his owed fealty to Viznove and her Countess?”
He did not even pause in rallying despite the implicit threat. He could have been rendered to ash if that breath had been more than air.
“If you gentle the Ogien south of my holdings well enough that barges can be safely pulled north from the Vah I will assure you the fealty of Viznove.”
He was terrified of what she would say.
Yet Lukas asked anyway, he trusted she was more than a monster, more than some legend that would dispense curses. More than a beast to be worked around and tamed, It was not the loyalty or ease she wanted from a vassal.
But it was a start.
“I will need to consult with the Weird Tsulogothulan. If it can be done then I will see to it.”
There was the triumph that had been building, the relief, the stink of victory.
Jewel had smelled this on more martial men. The same scent when they cut down a foe where he stood. When a blow was true and spilled the guts of his enemy.
Lukas was not a martial man.
But his pride smelled the same when he won.
“However, not all things are possible in sorcery, if the sworn Wizard of Rochford declines we will have to come back to the matter of your loyalty, Lukas.”
And there was the fear again.
Long after he and his footmen had departed Jewel stared at where he stood.
Wondering if she was already failing in the very thing she had wished to never do.
Was she really doing any better than Bathory had?