Chapter 15
They returned to the carriage with the same, measured poise by which they had exited the hall. Ludmila closed the door behind her as they seated themselves, and Liane drew the curtain shut. As soon as she did so, Clara leaned over and buried her face in Ludmila’s shoulder tiredly. She felt Clara’s tremulous breathing against her, suppressed since the audience with Count Fassett had grown ever more heated. Ludmila placed a hand on her friend’s back and Clara’s tense form gradually relaxed, but she continued to remain where she was.
“I don’t ever want to do that again,” she said in a muffled voice. “Why must these provocations keep spilling out of my mouth?”
“I thought it was right on the mark,” Ludmila patted her lightly, “we needed to end that audience quickly, anyways. I was wondering if he would try to hold onto us there to keep us from doing anything about those men he sent out.”
Liane reached up to activate the magical lamp above them, and light flooded the interior of the cabin.
“It was entirely worth it,” she agreed. “Watching you viciously take a bite out of that bloated ego of his was extraordinarily satisfying.”
“I hope this will be the last time we have to deal with that reprehensible cur,” Florine’s voice simmered. “The first thing I’m going to do when we get back is take a bath.”
Ludmila looked to Florine curiously. Like Clara, she almost always carried a gentle disposition, so what was said amounted to strong language for her.
“I’m sure we all feel that way about Campbell Fassett,” Ludmila said, “but that’s quite the livid statement coming from you.”
“All of the men were getting their fill of her,” Liane explained, “even Campbell Fassett. I’m pretty sure half of the brigands in that hall were leering at her the entire time. Her lascivious nickname is well earned.”
“…what nickname would that be?” Ludmila asked.
“Li–”
Florine started and turned towards her friend, wide eyed, but she couldn’t stop her in time.
“Mistress of Fertile Hills,” Liane answered with an impish smile. “In our territories, at least. Maybe the city too.”
Her face painted with an entirely displeased look, Florine hit Liane several times on the arm, and Ludmila noted the ample curves of the younger noblewoman’s bosom bouncing beneath her baggy blouse as she flailed away. They did not miss her look.
“See?” Liane laughed. “They don’t even mean ill by it, Florine – you’re the very embodiment of everyone’s hopes and dreams.”
“Augh!” Florine fell back onto her seat and shrunk into herself.
“It’s outrageous, isn’t it?” Liane said, “She’s the youngest amongst us, yet she has the most generous figure. Whenever we’re out together, I can’t even get the time of day from any of the men that we come across. It’s always ‘welcome, Lady Gagnier,‘ ‘yes, Lady Gagnier,’ and ‘of course, Lady Gagnier’ as we step over and around all the puddles of drool that she leaves in her wake. I bet she secretly likes all the attention, as well.”
As Liane leaned forward and spoke in low tones at the last, a horrified expression painted Florine’s face.
“I do not!” Florine protested, “I don’t flaunt myself like some...some...some…”
“Oh that just makes it even worse,” Liane rolled her eyes. “I always tell her it’s an advantage she should exploit, but she keeps hiding herself away in the most unflattering outfits; just like this one she’s wearing right now. Or maybe she knows exactly what she’s doing: the more conservative her dress becomes, the more suggestive everything else about her seems. You know, I would pay good coin to have at least half – well I still have a chance, I think. Ludmila here is pretty much doomed.”
How did I get caught up in this?
She felt a stirring at her breast.
“This is pretty hard,” Clara said.
Ludmila grasped Countess Corelyn by the nape of her collar and peeled her off. She reached into the space between the apron of her kirtle and her blouse.
“That wasn’t…me,” she said, holding up the white mask of unknown material.
Ludmila had carried around the mask that Lady Shalltear lent to her every waking hour, but for the life of her she still could not figure out what she was supposed to do with it. Its empty eyes leered back, as if mocking her for her ignorance.
“Well, what do we do now?” Clara said as she looked towards her. “Our plan has gone horribly awry, I think.”
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“That was my fault,” Ludmila furrowed her brow. “I was convinced that Campbell was so much of a coward that he would continue to hide behind the protection of his men, but he had no issues sending them to attack his sister when he sensed that he had an advantage. We inadvertently cleared the way for him, and I was completely caught up in our own moves to realize what we had done.”
Ludmila’s mouth twisted as she reviewed the sequence of events: it should have been plainly apparent that the breach in Jacqueline’s defences would have invited an attack from the forces right next door, but she had allowed her opinion of the Fassett siblings to blind her to such an obvious outcome. With the notion about her having abilities associated with commanding armies and leading them like the legendary figures of yore, the simple blunder made her feel the furthest thing from it. Her mind worked to salvage the days of their efforts which threatened to fall apart within hours.
“To be fair,” Florine said across from her, “we didn’t know he had those men. When we arrived on the first day, he had a regular-looking household staff.”
“There is no fair,” Ludmila replied. “There are only our moves and theirs, and what happens as a result. We cannot politely ask Campbell Fassett, pleading our own ignorance, to recall his men so we can try again. All we can do is make the best decisions that we can in light of this new development.”
Ludmila stood up and reached over Florine to open the driver window. Halfway in doing so, she stopped and reseated herself.
“Driver,” she focused on the man seated on the other side of the glass.
The driver of the carriage straightened in his seat for a moment, then twisted around to open the window.
“Yes, Lady Camilla?”
“We’re returning to camp,” she told him, “but stop the carriage when we’re outside the village on the highway.”
“At once, my lady.”
The man closed the window and faced forward again. As the carriage rolled out of the manor grounds, Clara looked to Ludmila.
“It only goes one way, I guess?” She asked.
“I should have realized that as well,” Ludmila frowned. “Though this at least has its uses, as long as you don’t require a direct response…actually, I guess I could talk to you from the comfort of my solar, assuming it can work like that. From a test some weeks ago, I found that I was able to convey my words to a subordinate two kilometres away.”
“We should give it a try when we get the chance,” Clara said with a thoughtful look. “This seems both convenient and useful.”
Liane and Florine followed their discussion with blank looks.
“Okay,” Liane said, “now you really have to teach us how to do this.”
“It’s quite amazing,” Florine agreed. “Do you think other nobles do it as well?”
“If they do,” Ludmila said, “it is not widespread...otherwise the meetings to discuss business between nobles would not happen: more nobles would stay in cities and towns; we would all probably just communicate from our homes to save time. I’m more inclined to believe that it’s at most a very well kept secret only known to a few. Another possibility is that it does happen, but those that use it don’t realize what is being done because they employ it as if they are addressing others normally – it’s how both Clara and I first learned, as well. It’s not something you really notice unless something extraordinary happens, so it just becomes mixed up in our common sense. Once again, the Sorcerous Kingdom’s way of seeing the world has changed the manner in which we conceptualize what we previously took for granted as what we are. Personally, I would have never dreamed of using it in the ways that I do if they had not come. I might not have even noticed it was an ability at all.”
“This…is probably best kept between us, yes?” Clara said, “At least for now – until we know the full extent of what is possible, and after we’ve explored its use.”
“Even then,” Liane said, “I wouldn’t share this knowledge openly. It’s a powerful advantage for those who can use it. Imagine how much chaos it would bring if these nobles in Fassett County could purposely wield it?”
It seemed a prudent decision, and everyone nodded in agreement. They felt the carriage slow to a stop. Ludmila opened the door and stood out to look northwards, but the gentle rise that the highway crossed over blocked any vantage on the town. She looked down to her shadow.
“Fly up and see if you can spot the town’s manor from above,” she instructed one of the Shadow Demons.
Ludmila returned to her seat, awaiting its report.
“What’s going on?” Clara asked.
“Campbell said he sent out his men this morning,” Ludmila answered. “I’m hoping that these forest trails they are using slow their pace enough that the Shadow Demons can be sent to intercept their attack. If we can catch those men en-route, we might be able to return to the original plan…”
The Shadow Demon hovered back down, floating in the doorway and Ludmila turned her attention to it.
“A trail of smoke,” it reported, “the manor is ablaze.”
“How far does the smoke extend?”
“It goes south, halfway across the horizon.”
“Good work,” she nodded. “Stand by for further instructions.”
The Demon lowered itself into the shadows, fading as it concealed itself from regular vision. Ludmila closed the door of the carriage. She returned to the combined gazes of the other noblewomen.
“So much for that idea,” she sighed. “I don’t think we can hope for Campbell letting the opportunity to permanently end the dispute get away from him with some foolish desire to gloat over his sister. Jacqueline has either fled, or she is dead.”
Their faces fell, and the carriage was silent for a moment before Clara pushed their agenda forward.
“Then…what do we do now?” She asked, “If Jacqueline is gone and Campbell asserts his authority over Fassett County…I can’t imagine he would be very receptive with how we just parted ways…”
Liane furrowed her brow at Clara’s words.
“You’re still thinking of correcting that Filth Eater?” She said, “He just murdered his own sister in cold blood, and he seemed quite proud that he ordered it. I highly doubt he will just fall in line.”
“Not only that,” Ludmila said. “He is going to believe that some great victory has been won, and he won’t be coming down off of that high horse any time soon. If anything, it will further embolden him in his ways, since he has seen a major success. He will proceed to consolidate all of the various elements in the territory under him now that his authority is undisputed.”
“And then he will return to business as usual,” Florine’s frown deepened. “It’s like we’ve done nothing but help a fragmented opponent unify itself.”
They were running out of options. All had a good idea of what was to come, but even at this point it was difficult to stomach.
“He should at least be waiting on confirmation of his success,” Ludmila said. “We just have to pick up our plan from here and bring in Count Fassett while we know where he is, then collect what remains of the nobles that have participated in all this. After that…we’ll see what else can be done.”
She pulled the latch beside her and stepped out onto the highway. Before she closed it again, she turned to address the others.
“Make sure you return straight to our encampment,” Ludmila said, “do not stop until you’re safe inside the perimeter. The footmen should have no issues defending their positions if they come after you with the sort that we have seen here. The Shadow Demon I left there will intervene if things get out of hand.”
“I’m not worried about us,” Clara said. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m not,” Ludmila replied. “House Fassett never stood a chance in the first place, had they chosen this avenue. Before, I hoped that it would not come to this…though now, I’m almost looking forward to it.”
Flipping the mask in her hands over one last time, she fastened it on. She felt it shift slightly, reforming to fit her – it was a magic item, but she still could not discern any of its effects.
“Well,” she said, “how do I look?”
There was a moment of silence as she looked between the other noblewomen.
“I…I don’t know,” Clara finally said.
Behind the mask, a mirthless smile appeared on Ludmila’s face.
Securing the door and stepping away, she addressed the men, repeating her instructions. They nodded grimly, and the carriage sped away. Watching the vehicle recede into the distance, Ludmila let out a heavy breath and looked down to her shadow stretching out beneath her in the late afternoon. She couldn’t afford any more carelessness.
“Escort them back to the camp,” she instructed a Shadow Demon. “I have no idea where Fassett’s men are, so stay vigilant. Meet me back at the entrance to this village’s manor after they are secure in the encampment.”