Seneschal Brastbrow’s office was located on the first floor of the Copperstone Inn. The short trek from Captain Bernstein’s apartment back to the inn passed in a hurried blur. One moment, Daana was climbing the slippery steps to the front doors and, in the next, she was being ushered before the most powerful officiant in the entire city. She regretted not changing first. Having just arrived, she was still wearing her travel clothes and certainly smelled like it, too. On the other hand, the stench could work in her favor. Anyone with a working nose would probably agree to just about anything to get the lingering odor of horse and sweat out of their office.
Seneschal Brastbrow was not pleased to see them. The elderly dwarf slouched in the oversized wingback chair behind his desk, unconsciously twisting the ends of a graying beard. He lifted his liver-spotted hand with a sigh and reluctantly gave Daana the floor. At first, he didn’t appear to be listening, not attentively anyway. But as Daana moved through the finer points of her argument one by one, highlighting exactly what Geralt Lazuli stood to gain from Adderwood’s lack of involvement, Seneschal Brastbrow’s posture changed. It was subtle at first. A lift of the shoulders, straightening of the spine. Eventually, he moved the edge of his seat and leaned out over his desk, as if being slightly closer to Daana would allow him to digest her words faster.
Daana’s former fear, trepidation, the knot of dread forming in her throat, little by little, it all melted away as she spoke. Once more, as it had done in the captain’s apartment, a sense of purpose took over. The words came easily, spoken in a voice so confident, that Daana could have sworn it belonged to someone else. She spoke of Geralt, his second-in-command Tarathiel Cray, and how together they stood to bring the rest of the continent to its knees.
The office fell deathly quiet when Daana finished speaking. There were four of them in the room in total: Daana, Captain Bernstein, Seneschal Brastbrow, and the latter’s clerical clerk, tasked with transcribing the meeting. Caught in the moment, the clerk had stopped scribbling halfway through Daana’s speech. The woman’s round face was drained of color by the time Daana finished speaking. Wordlessly, the clerk swiveled her head at the seneschal, breath bated, awaiting his answer. She was no longer a mere notetaker. At that moment, having heard Daana’s warning, the clerk was now a witness to history. One of the few who could claim they were present for that pivotal moment when, for better or worse, a single head of government decided the outcome of the war.
Daana gnawed her bottom lip as the seconds painfully ticked past. Surely her speech had gotten through to the seneschal. She’d spelled it out in no uncertain terms. There were only two choices: either assist Oralia by sending aid to Lonebrook, or do nothing, and succumb to Geralt’s control.
Captain Bernstein's soft footsteps broke the silence. Abandoning his position along the wall, he joined Daana at the center of the room. “Seneschal Brastbrow?” the captain prompted, on the off chance the elderly seneschal had forgotten the room was anxiously awaiting an answer.
Seneschal Brastbrow closed his eyes and exhaled, deeply, before giving his decision. “No.”
“No?” The word was like soot on Daana’s tongue. Her face flushed red with heat and spread to the tips of her pointed ears. Dropping her previous sense of poise, she took a daring step forward. “Your refusal to act puts every citizen in peril, including your own! How can you possibly sit there, after hearing the evidence, and still say no?”
“Captain Bernstein, please control your guest.”
“Control me?” Daana repeated a few decibels shy of a scream. She glanced down at Captain Bernstein, half expecting him to follow orders, but the poor man looked to be in shock.
“No?” The captain, still fixated on the seneschal’s answer, appeared to not have heard. His lips moved, as though he had more to say, but could not find the words.
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“Captain Bernstein,” the seneschal warned.
The captain’s momentary stupor faded. He found his voice again, along with a heaping side of anger. “No?” he boomed. “How can you possibly say no? Did you not hear a word Miss Lazuli just spoke?”
“I heard every word,” Seneschal Brastbrow assured him, neatly rearranging the papers on his desk to avoid eye contact. “My answer remains the same. I cannot forward this to the council, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? You don’t know the meaning of sorry. Not yet.” Captain Bernstein unclipped the decorative cape from his shoulders and slammed it down onto the seneschal's desk.
Brastbrow’s white eyebrows lifted high on his wrinkled forehead. His expression was more amused than taken aback. “What are you doing?”
“There’s no point in wearing this if it’s meaningless. Your shortsightedness has ensured that I will soon have no one left to protect.” Captain Bernstein turned and stormed for the door.
“Almas, stop,” the seneschal called after him not in the tone of a superior, but as a friend. It was a tired, pleading sort of sound. Seneschal Brastbrow’s attention swept from Bernstein to the clerical clerk. “That’s all for today, Winda, thank you. You may go.”
Winda gathered her things and left, reluctantly, from the looks of it. Something was about to happen and she appeared disappointed that she wasn’t being allowed in on it. Captain Bernstein must have suspected the same. He closed the door after the clerk before making his way back into the center of the room. The captain’s steps were slow and cautious. An unmistakable glint of suspicion flickered behind his glassy eyes as the former outrage stretched across his bearded face lessened. “What are you up to?”
“Are you done being dramatic?” Seneschal Brastbrow countered.
“That depends on what you say next. I can get more dramatic, believe me. And if that’s not enough to convince you, I can just as easily go fetch Rali. As you well know, she’s been eagerly awaiting the opportunity to go full hog on you.”
The seneschal offered a tight-lipped smile in response.
Unbelievable. Daana shook her head, utterly perplexed. Seneschal Brastbrow barely reacted to her speech, not so much as a single wince. And yet, a mere mention of Rali was all it took to get the old man to react? Daana wished she’d known this information sooner. She could have worked it into her argument somehow. ‘Do as I say or feel the full force of a disgruntled Quartz Ralizak!’
“Miss Lazuli.” Seneschal Brastbrow’s voice snapped Daana from her fictitious back-and-forth. “Make no mistake, your argument is convincing. I believe if I sent it to the council, in time, they would agree.”
“I don’t understand,” Daana said. “That’s what I want you to do.”
“No, Miss Lazuli. What you want is an army. Immediately, I might add. According to your timeline, by the time the council is done hemming and hawing over the details, it will be too late. Lonebrook will have already fallen and with it, Geralt Lazuli gains the upper hand he needs to decimate the rest of us.”
It was a fair point, Daana conceded, which is the reason she kept her mouth and waited for what she hoped was a contingency plan.
The seneschal addressed the other dwarf in the room. “Captain Bernstein.”
“Sir?”
“Back to sir, already, are we?” Seneschal Brastbrow mused. He lifted the captain’s discarded cape into the air. “If you’re finished with the theatrics, I would suggest you take this. I realize it is only a symbol of power, but you’re going to need all the help you can get.”
Tentatively, the captain accepted the cape.
“Take half of the Fairguard’s forces and march for Lonebrook.” Seneschal Brastbrow added, “Quickly, if you will. The sooner you’re gone, the better.”
“Sir?” Captain Bernstein said, confused.
“I fear this is one of those situations where it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission, Captain. I will make it clear to the council that it was I who gave the order. As far as they will be concerned, you were simply following the chain of command.”
“This will ruin you,” the captain said.
“I would rather have my career ruined at the hands of my own people than that of Geralt Lazuli.” Seneschal Brastbrow waved them away with a single command. “Go.”