Drake smacked his lips, rolled onto his side, and cuddled up in the warm soft sleeping bag for more shuteye. But... wait. This was a rather fuzzy sleeping bag. Fuzzier than a sleeping bag should be. Also, the world smelled like leather and smoke. Was something burning?
“How are you feeling?” a soft female voice asked. “Can you speak?”
Wait a moment. That was Lydia, his flutterstepping battle maid, and he was still stuck in a fucked up fantasy world where everyone was trying to kill him. Which was still better than living in a drafty one-bedroom apartment back in New Mexico.
Drake forced his eyes open and experimentally stretched. He didn’t feel bad at all. Actually, he felt amazing, like he’d just come awake after a long and restful nap. The last thing he had done was... drain himself of blood teleporting twelve people out of an old fort... so it was surprising to feel this good afterward. In fact, he felt so good that...
“You gave me Samuel’s rarity again, didn’t you?” Drake asked. He reflexively reached for the pouch of blood vials and found it missing, then spotted it nearby.
Lydia grimaced. “Had we not done so, Samuel would now be the lord of Gloomwood Manor.”
So he really had almost killed himself by teleporting twelve people using Anna’s rarity. Good to know for next time. Anna’s rarity had sucked him dry.
“Ten,” Drake said. “We’ll settle for ten. No reason to get overly ambitious.”
Lydia’s warm hand rested on his forearm. The gesture felt far more caring than he expected. She looked genuinely concerned about him.
He patted her hand. “Hey, I’m fine.”
“That is good to hear.” She released his arm. “Everyone who you teleported from Fort Graystone arrived safely. You have been unconscious for approximately four hours, and we have made camp for the night. Our vanguard will easily reach Korhaurbauten before lunch tomorrow. That gives you a night before you will officially be required to attend the cabal.”
“Can’t wait for my first cabal.”
“Robby remains with Tamara and her maids in their tent, so we have leeway to speak freely. You may also be unsurprised to learn that Sky is, once again, Lord Skybreak.”
“Figured Karth would hand the blood pact back,” Drake agreed. “Not everyone enjoys constantly dodging assassins and making the hard calls.”
“Now that you’re awake, would you feel comfortable attending a formal supper with our new allies? Meryl and her cooks are almost done with their preparations.”
Drake sat up. “I could eat.” He idly rolled one shoulder in its socket, then flexed and tested his forearm. Nothing felt off. “And by allies, we’re talking Lord and Lady Skybreak?” Both were women, but he had to keep to the odd conventions here.
“I took the liberty of suggesting the idea of a supper and strategy session in preparation for tomorrow’s cabal, assuming you came awake in time. I hope I haven’t overstepped.”
“You never do.” He frowned. “And wait. Have you been watching over me for four hours? Without a break?”
“It is my duty to keep you safe, lord.”
He pulled up the top of his sleeping back and looked inside. “So... where are my pants?”
Lydia blushed brighter than he expected. “Samuel and Raylan weren’t sure of the extent of your injuries, so they looked you over after Samuel mixed his blood with yours. While you were unconscious. No one else was allowed in this part of the tent.”
“Not even Emily?”
“Definitely not Emily. Though, fair warning, she may be prickly for a few days. She was not happy about being left out of the rescue party.”
“At least she got to hang out with everyone’s favorite Samuel.”
“I have laid out an outfit that’s suitable for supper,” Lydia said. “I’ve left it on the table. With your permission, I’ll leave to inform the others you’re awake and allow you to dress.”
“You don’t need to be so formal when we’re alone.” Drake shrugged and paused halfway out of the bedroll. “Though... you do need to leave.”
She rose and offered a faint smile. “It’s good to see you awake, Lord Gloomwood.”
Once Lydia left the screened-in part of his big command tent, Drake slipped out of his furry bedroll—he was wearing a pair of those silky faux boxer things, which was better than waking up naked—and checked out the clothes Lydia had left out from him.
The shirt was dark-colored, just a shade off black, and laced with gold trim that formed a complex and almost flowery pattern across the chest. The weight of the garment despite its thin appearance suggested it was silverweave, but he doubted a manor lord would attend a fancy dinner in anything less. The pants were dark as well with flared cuffs, fancier than he normally wore but fortunately not so floofy he would feel self-conscious.
Drake dressed easily without enduring any aches or pains from draining himself of blood four hours ago—having Samuel’s physical regeneration rarity back was amazing—and was pleased to see Magnum in the room with him. He loved that crossbow. He pulled out Sky’s magic mirror, which was, at the moment, just a mirror, and gave himself a once over.
The dark shirt looked good on him, as did the pants. Both flattered a frame he would swear was more muscular and toned than it had been a month ago. He had, in fact, been working out. He finished the outfit by pulling on his ankle-length fur cloak.
His long black hair was still a mess, however, haphazardly sticking out in all directions. He would definitely need a haircut before he presented himself at the capital. For now, he’d simply find some water and slick down the worst parts. It would have to do. Unfortunately, in this world, baseball caps were not acceptable dinner attire.
He stuck his head out of his screened-in private area to check who was currently in his tent. He spotted Korrag on watch immediately—the big orange zarovian had to bow his head to fit inside the tent—and Valentia sitting at a table nearby, legs propped up casually on another chair as she read yet another book. The tent was otherwise empty. No Anna?
As Valentia glanced up, her ice-blue eyes were warmer than he expected. “Did you have a good nap?”
He stepped into the tent at large and nodded. “How’s Nicole?”
“Resting comfortably.” A faint smile joined the warmth in her eyes. “I haven’t thanked you for saving her life.”
“It was a group effort, but you’re both welcome.” He glanced at Korrag, who was obviously doing his best to stand at attention like a manor guard. “How’s life, buddy?”
“Lots of watching,” Korrag said. “Not enough snacks.”
“Sounds about right.” Drake took note of the long wooden table in the main portion of his command tent, one that had not been there previously, and then looked to Valentia and her book. “So this supper’s going to be inside?”
“In attendance will be you, Lydia, Samuel, Lord Skybreak, Lady Skybreak, and Head Ranger Cask standing in as acting steward for Skybreak Manor. As this will be a small but formal supper, the rest of us will be on duty outside or eating with the rest of the camp.”
That was useful information. “How are we doing on food and such?” They had added a large number of people to their vanguard four days ago, which must have presented a problem. He doubted his cooks had packed enough food to feed two vanguards.
“Tonight’s supper will be a bit light,” Valentia agreed. “I’m certain your new allies will understand given the circumstances. Fortunately, in the days you were away, Lord Skybreak’s rangers spent most of their time assisting with extra hunting. We do not lack for food.”
It sounded like everything back at his camp had run just fine in both his and Lydia’s absence, so Samuel had done a fine job keeping the lights on while everyone else was gone. That didn’t surprise him. The old man had been playing this game for decades.
“Great,” Drake said. “So, I’d like to walk around the camp now to see how everyone has held up.” And to make sure his people knew he was back in fighting shape. If they’d heard he’d blacked out from blood loss, they might be concerned.
Valentia set down her book and stood. “I will accompany you.”
“Thanks, Val.” He glanced at Korrag again. “How about you, buddy?”
“Cresh told me to guard tent.”
“The tent? Not me?”
“Tent,” Korrag agreed.
Drake chuckled. “We wouldn’t want you disobeying orders. See you in a bit.”
Korrag nodded gravely.
With Valentia at his side, Drake stepped out into a camp that already felt familiar despite him only spending a few days here. Several nearby servants glanced his way and one even smiled at him. They didn’t look nearly so afraid as they had days ago.
Perhaps it had been his time in the soup line. Or his work with Hugo and Tamara. Or maybe just weeks going by without him murdering any of them. Either way, it felt good to see people who were happy to see him alive rather than people who winced like whipped dogs.
The camp was as he’d expected it to be given Samuel was in charge. Every tent was arranged close enough to the others to create an efficient camp but far enough away there would be enough room for zarovians or horses to rush through if needed. It wasn’t quite sunset yet, so the soup line hadn’t started yet, but there were a lot more people here.
The addition of Sky’s vanguard had not quite doubled their numbers, since her vanguard was smaller than his, but there were far more people around. Also, Sky’s people were dressed in various types of light armor and most carried bows. They made a strong contrast to his people, who were primarily dressed as servants and laborers.
Drake wondered then if Sky even had any domestic servants, or if that was a luxury the prior Lords Gloomwood had allowed themselves. He could see how having more people capable of combat would be beneficial, but he wasn’t about to fire loyal people who’d decided to serve him by choice. Everyone here was his responsibility now.
Drake looked to Valentia. “How’s the JV crew settling in? Any problems?”
Valentia glanced at him. “You really should come up with a different name for our warriors-in-training. No one understands what that means.”
“You’re probably right.” They walked past where the cooks were setting up, including two he didn’t recognize. Sky’s people. “So is there any precedent for bringing in folks who we’re going to use as warriors, but who aren’t battle maids?”
“The last two Lords Gloomwood had no interest in training warriors unless their rarities were of unequaled strength. So as you have seen, even Olivia was inducted as a battle maid when she joined the manor.”
“And historically, have there always been five of you? Or have there been more?”
“Official records only go back around three hundred years. However, if I recall, the most battle maids Lord Gloomwood ever had at a time was eight.”
“So we have three more silverweave maid uniforms back at the manor, gathering dust?”
“They are sealed away in magical boxes that can only be opened by the blood of the current Lord Gloomwood. However, you are correct that they sit unused. If we are ever fortunate enough to come across a person with a rarity powerful enough to join our ranks, I hope you will take the opportunity to recruit them.”
Now that he’d finally recruited his first new folks, Drake was curious to learn more about how he might strengthen his manor. With willing warriors. “So if I wanted to recruit more people, where would I find them? Are all my folks drawn from towns that swear fealty?”
“That is most often where you draw new thralls and why Samuel maintains a list of births and rarities that manifest in all territories. It is considered disrespectful to poach thralls from the territories of other manor lords unless they specifically approach you first. While it is not a crime, it can certainly lead to difficulties in manor relations.”
“But if people seek me out voluntarily, there’s no issue recruiting them?”
“There is not, though when a young person manifests a powerful rarity, many lords often take an interest. One of Samuel’s duties as your spymaster is to track the appearance of powerful rarities and provide you with information about them when they arise.”
“So I can recruit them if I have the interest and space.” Drake nodded as Valentia confirmed his earlier speculations. “You and the others are absolute badasses, but I do think we need more capable warriors. Will I have any chance for recruiting in Korhaurbauten?”
“That pronunciation was almost passable.”
“Thank you. I’m going to kick all sorts of ass at the cabal.”
Drake smacked his lips, rolled onto his side, and cuddled up in the warm soft sleeping bag for more shuteye. But... wait. This was a rather fuzzy sleeping bag. Fuzzier than a sleeping bag should be. Also, the world smelled like leather and smoke. Was something burning?
“How are you feeling?” a soft female voice asked. “Can you speak?”
Wait a moment. That was Lydia, his flutterstepping battle maid, and he was still stuck in a fucked up fantasy world where everyone was trying to kill him. Which was still better than living in a drafty one-bedroom apartment back in New Mexico.
Drake forced his eyes open and experimentally stretched. He didn’t feel bad at all. Actually, he felt amazing, like he’d just come awake after a long and restful nap. The last thing he had done was... drain himself of blood teleporting twelve people out of an old fort... so it was surprising to feel this good afterward. In fact, he felt so good that...
“You gave me Samuel’s rarity again, didn’t you?” Drake asked. He reflexively reached for the pouch of blood vials and found it missing, then spotted it nearby.
Lydia grimaced. “Had we not done so, Samuel would now be the lord of Gloomwood Manor.”
So he really had almost killed himself by teleporting twelve people using Anna’s rarity. Good to know for next time. Anna’s rarity had sucked him dry.
“Ten,” Drake said. “We’ll settle for ten. No reason to get overly ambitious.”
Lydia’s warm hand rested on his forearm. The gesture felt far more caring than he expected. She looked genuinely concerned about him.
He patted her hand. “Hey, I’m fine.”
“That is good to hear.” She released his arm. “Everyone who you teleported from Fort Graystone arrived safely. You have been unconscious for approximately four hours, and we have made camp for the night. Our vanguard will easily reach Korhaurbauten before lunch tomorrow. That gives you a night before you will officially be required to attend the cabal.”
“Can’t wait for my first cabal.”
“Robby remains with Tamara and her maids in their tent, so we have leeway to speak freely. You may also be unsurprised to learn that Sky is, once again, Lord Skybreak.”
“Figured Karth would hand the blood pact back,” Drake agreed. “Not everyone enjoys constantly dodging assassins and making the hard calls.”
“Now that you’re awake, would you feel comfortable attending a formal supper with our new allies? Meryl and her cooks are almost done with their preparations.”
Drake sat up. “I could eat.” He idly rolled one shoulder in its socket, then flexed and tested his forearm. Nothing felt off. “And by allies, we’re talking Lord and Lady Skybreak?” Both were women, but he had to keep to the odd conventions here.
“I took the liberty of suggesting the idea of a supper and strategy session in preparation for tomorrow’s cabal, assuming you came awake in time. I hope I haven’t overstepped.”
“You never do.” He frowned. “And wait. Have you been watching over me for four hours? Without a break?”
“It is my duty to keep you safe, lord.”
He pulled up the top of his sleeping back and looked inside. “So... where are my pants?”
Lydia blushed brighter than he expected. “Samuel and Raylan weren’t sure of the extent of your injuries, so they looked you over after Samuel mixed his blood with yours. While you were unconscious. No one else was allowed in this part of the tent.”
“Not even Emily?”
“Definitely not Emily. Though, fair warning, she may be prickly for a few days. She was not happy about being left out of the rescue party.”
“At least she got to hang out with everyone’s favorite Samuel.”
“I have laid out an outfit that’s suitable for supper,” Lydia said. “I’ve left it on the table. With your permission, I’ll leave to inform the others you’re awake and allow you to dress.”
“You don’t need to be so formal when we’re alone.” Drake shrugged and paused halfway out of the bedroll. “Though... you do need to leave.”
She rose and offered a faint smile. “It’s good to see you awake, Lord Gloomwood.”
Once Lydia left the screened-in part of his big command tent, Drake slipped out of his furry bedroll—he was wearing a pair of those silky faux boxer things, which was better than waking up naked—and checked out the clothes Lydia had left out from him.
The shirt was dark-colored, just a shade off black, and laced with gold trim that formed a complex and almost flowery pattern across the chest. The weight of the garment despite its thin appearance suggested it was silverweave, but he doubted a manor lord would attend a fancy dinner in anything less. The pants were dark as well with flared cuffs, fancier than he normally wore but fortunately not so floofy he would feel self-conscious.
Drake dressed easily without enduring any aches or pains from draining himself of blood four hours ago—having Samuel’s physical regeneration rarity back was amazing—and was pleased to see Magnum in the room with him. He loved that crossbow. He pulled out Sky’s magic mirror, which was, at the moment, just a mirror, and gave himself a once over.
The dark shirt looked good on him, as did the pants. Both flattered a frame he would swear was more muscular and toned than it had been a month ago. He had, in fact, been working out. He finished the outfit by pulling on his ankle-length fur cloak.
His long black hair was still a mess, however, haphazardly sticking out in all directions. He would definitely need a haircut before he presented himself at the capital. For now, he’d simply find some water and slick down the worst parts. It would have to do. Unfortunately, in this world, baseball caps were not acceptable dinner attire.
He stuck his head out of his screened-in private area to check who was currently in his tent. He spotted Korrag on watch immediately—the big orange zarovian had to bow his head to fit inside the tent—and Valentia sitting at a table nearby, legs propped up casually on another chair as she read yet another book. The tent was otherwise empty. No Anna?
As Valentia glanced up, her ice-blue eyes were warmer than he expected. “Did you have a good nap?”
He stepped into the tent at large and nodded. “How’s Nicole?”
“Resting comfortably.” A faint smile joined the warmth in her eyes. “I haven’t thanked you for saving her life.”
“It was a group effort, but you’re both welcome.” He glanced at Korrag, who was obviously doing his best to stand at attention like a manor guard. “How’s life, buddy?”
“Lots of watching,” Korrag said. “Not enough snacks.”
“Sounds about right.” Drake took note of the long wooden table in the main portion of his command tent, one that had not been there previously, and then looked to Valentia and her book. “So this supper’s going to be inside?”
“In attendance will be you, Lydia, Samuel, Lord Skybreak, Lady Skybreak, and Head Ranger Cask standing in as acting steward for Skybreak Manor. As this will be a small but formal supper, the rest of us will be on duty outside or eating with the rest of the camp.”
That was useful information. “How are we doing on food and such?” They had added a large number of people to their vanguard four days ago, which must have presented a problem. He doubted his cooks had packed enough food to feed two vanguards.
“Tonight’s supper will be a bit light,” Valentia agreed. “I’m certain your new allies will understand given the circumstances. Fortunately, in the days you were away, Lord Skybreak’s rangers spent most of their time assisting with extra hunting. We do not lack for food.”
It sounded like everything back at his camp had run just fine in both his and Lydia’s absence, so Samuel had done a fine job keeping the lights on while everyone else was gone. That didn’t surprise him. The old man had been playing this game for decades.
“Great,” Drake said. “So, I’d like to walk around the camp now to see how everyone has held up.” And to make sure his people knew he was back in fighting shape. If they’d heard he’d blacked out from blood loss, they might be concerned.
Valentia set down her book and stood. “I will accompany you.”
“Thanks, Val.” He glanced at Korrag again. “How about you, buddy?”
“Cresh told me to guard tent.”
“The tent? Not me?”
“Tent,” Korrag agreed.
Drake chuckled. “We wouldn’t want you disobeying orders. See you in a bit.”
Korrag nodded gravely.
With Valentia at his side, Drake stepped out into a camp that already felt familiar despite him only spending a few days here. Several nearby servants glanced his way and one even smiled at him. They didn’t look nearly so afraid as they had days ago.
Perhaps it had been his time in the soup line. Or his work with Hugo and Tamara. Or maybe just weeks going by without him murdering any of them. Either way, it felt good to see people who were happy to see him alive rather than people who winced like whipped dogs.
The camp was as he’d expected it to be given Samuel was in charge. Every tent was arranged close enough to the others to create an efficient camp but far enough away there would be enough room for zarovians or horses to rush through if needed. It wasn’t quite sunset yet, so the soup line hadn’t started yet, but there were a lot more people here.
The addition of Sky’s vanguard had not quite doubled their numbers, since her vanguard was smaller than his, but there were far more people around. Also, Sky’s people were dressed in various types of light armor and most carried bows. They made a strong contrast to his people, who were primarily dressed as servants and laborers.
Drake wondered then if Sky even had any domestic servants, or if that was a luxury the prior Lords Gloomwood had allowed themselves. He could see how having more people capable of combat would be beneficial, but he wasn’t about to fire loyal people who’d decided to serve him by choice. Everyone here was his responsibility now.
Drake looked to Valentia. “How’s the JV crew settling in? Any problems?”
Valentia glanced at him. “You really should come up with a different name for our warriors-in-training. No one understands what that means.”
“You’re probably right.” They walked past where the cooks were setting up, including two he didn’t recognize. Sky’s people. “So is there any precedent for bringing in folks who we’re going to use as warriors, but who aren’t battle maids?”
“The last two Lords Gloomwood had no interest in training warriors unless their rarities were of unequaled strength. So as you have seen, even Olivia was inducted as a battle maid when she joined the manor.”
“And historically, have there always been five of you? Or have there been more?”
“Official records only go back around three hundred years. However, if I recall, the most battle maids Lord Gloomwood ever had at a time was eight.”
“So we have three more silverweave maid uniforms back at the manor, gathering dust?”
“They are sealed away in magical boxes that can only be opened by the blood of the current Lord Gloomwood. However, you are correct that they sit unused. If we are ever fortunate enough to come across a person with a rarity powerful enough to join our ranks, I hope you will take the opportunity to recruit them.”
Now that he’d finally recruited his first new folks, Drake was curious to learn more about how he might strengthen his manor. With willing warriors. “So if I wanted to recruit more people, where would I find them? Are all my folks drawn from towns that swear fealty?”
“That is most often where you draw new thralls and why Samuel maintains a list of births and rarities that manifest in all territories. It is considered disrespectful to poach thralls from the territories of other manor lords unless they specifically approach you first. While it is not a crime, it can certainly lead to difficulties in manor relations.”
“But if people seek me out voluntarily, there’s no issue recruiting them?”
“There is not, though when a young person manifests a powerful rarity, many lords often take an interest. One of Samuel’s duties as your spymaster is to track the appearance of powerful rarities and provide you with information about them when they arise.”
“So I can recruit them if I have the interest and space.” Drake nodded as Valentia confirmed his earlier speculations. “You and the others are absolute badasses, but I do think we need more capable warriors. Will I have any chance for recruiting in Korhaurbauten?”
“That pronunciation was almost passable.”
“Thank you. I’m going to kick all sorts of ass at the cabal.”
