The box to the left of Lord Proudglade likely belonged to Lord Frostlight, judging from the name carved on the wood in front of it. Which said “Lord Frostlight”. The box beyond that was empty, suggesting it belonged to one of the two manors that had married into one of the others or the manor that had been wiped out. He’d find out later.
Drake swept his gaze back to the right along the south of the C, past Frostlight, Proudglade, and Mistvale. He passed another empty box and then found the box for Lord Brightwater. Her box was set due west of the Judge, so her territory must be clear on the other side of the land from where they were now. She also was not present yet.
Next to Brightwater was another empty box, followed by the box for Lord Redbow, which sat on the northwest of the C. It was beside Sky on her western border, which made sense with how Drake understood the geography of the world. Also, he’d had to walk through Redbow’s whole damn territory after Anna teleported him there. Not fun.
Unlike Lord Proudglade, Lord Redbow seemed genuinely pleased to see him... the same way a lion would be pleased to see a fox. Given how many times this man had tried to assassinate both of them, his obvious hunger wasn’t surprising. Drake took great pleasure in the fact that he’d survived every last assassination attempt. He even offered Redbow a mocking smile. Oddly, that only seemed to increase Lord Redbow’s pleasure all the more.
Lord Proudglade was pompous, and Lord Mistvale was intense, but Lord Redbow was just creepy, like the single adult male who drove around in a white van offering candy to kids. Redbow was dressed in a leather robe despite the heat with a fluffy white collar surrounding his neck. He wore an odd little red hat Drake would have described as a fez if it had a tassel.
Redbow’s black beard and thick eyebrows completed his sinister appearance. His face was ruddy and about as dark as Drake would expect from someone born in South America, but his teeth were immaculate, which made his smile all the more unnerving. If it came down to killing one of these manor lords, Drake would absolutely kill Lord Redbow first... or, if he wanted to be all poetic about it, send a dozen hired assassins to kill him.
Redbow’s box had five other people in it, but all wore hoods and masks. Only their eyes were visible, and Drake would take ten-to-one odds every last one of them was an experienced assassin. That was Redbow Manor’s stock in trade—assassination for hire—and while the scrubs he and Sky had both killed over the past few weeks weren’t Lord Redbow’s best, these five likely were. All five were also watching him with keen interest, which wasn’t great.
Back to his left again. Two boxes sat between him and the Judge on the northeast circle of the C. Blackmane was directly to his left, and Ashwind was directly beyond that. While Lord Blackmane wasn’t present yet, Lord Ashwind was... and he looked like was either badly constipated or simply displeased to be in the room.
Of all the manor lords gathered, Lord Ashwind looked to be the oldest in attendance, or maybe he’d just had the hardest life. Ashwind had his head shaved bald and wore a loose black robe that looked more appropriate for skulking about in shadows than a cabal.
Odder yet, Ashwind only had two people in his entourage, which meant he was the least protected manor lord in the room. Though, given his guardian easily stood as tall as Lord Crow—a full head above Drake—and the man’s muscles had muscles, he probably didn’t need another one. He also carried a giant axe that Drake knew would make Emily envious.
If Cresh, the giant zarovian leading Drake’s vanguard, had been born a human, Drake suspected Lord Ashwind’s guardian would be that guy. The fact that the giant had a long beard and half-lidded eyes that practically screamed Berserker! made Drake all the more glad he’d brought a crossbow. Though it might take more than four bolts to bring this giant down.
Lord Ashwind’s only other companion was a man who was as calm as Lord Ashwind wasn’t. He looked like this world’s equivalent of a pencil pusher, a short, thin, balding man with spectacles and a look like he’d swallowed something sour prior to the cabal. He probably didn’t want to be here either.
He and Lord Ashwind were still allies... supposedly. The same went for Lord Blackmane. Yet if Lord Proudglade intended to challenge his right to be a manor lord based on where he’d come from, he needed six manor lord votes to change the bylaws—which meant he was confident either Lord Blackmane or Lord Ashwind would vote with him.
Proudglade, Mistvale, Frostlight, Redbow, and Brightwater could call this cabal on their own—it took five manor lords to call one—but they couldn’t actually change anything without an additional vote. So who’d taken Lord Proudglade’s bribe to betray him? Lord Blackmane or Lord Redbow? Or did they have something else in mind entirely?
Drake looked away and reminded himself speculation was pointless. He’d know soon enough, and then he could take action... whatever that action was. It was too late to make an offer to Lord Ashwind or Lord Blackmane that might keep them on his side.
According to Samuel, there was only one vote Drake could be sure remained undecided: Lord Brightwater’s. She was the wildcard. Every lord today would be attempting to either form an alliance with her or at least get her to agree not to oppose him. He’d read her dossier multiple times to make sure he knew all he could about her.
Finally, Drake looked to his right again and to Lord Skybreak... Sky. He’d avoided trying to catch her gaze so far, fearing she’d still be standoffish. Instead, as he looked to her box, she looked to his. Their gazes met. He suspected she was waiting for something.
It was tempting to wink or grin, but Drake suspected either gesture would only add fuel to the rumors that Sky was crazy about him. Which would further piss her off. So Drake offered nothing but a firm, respectful nod, one manor lord to another.
Sky nodded back. As her gaze returned to the room, she looked more comfortable than she had previously. A bit of visible tension left her shoulders.
Having now gauged the room, Drake leaned over to speak quietly with Lark. “How are you enjoying your first cabal?”
None of the other manor lords could hear what they were saying even if they had a rarity that gave them super hearing—Samuel had assured Drake the magical protection on these boxes included ways to thwart that—but it was important his enemies see him consulting with “Lydia”. Assuming today went as he suspected it might.
“It is certainly different from my other engagements, lord,” Lark said just as quietly. “This is the first time any manor lord has invited me to a cabal.”
That suggested Lark had previously been engaged by other manor lords. Drake was tempted to ask which ones, but he decided that would be hopelessly rude. Not to mention he doubted Lark would answer. He didn’t want to put her in an awkward bind.
Drake turned to Fox. “And you? Anything to report?”
“Only that I am still somewhat overwhelmed, lord,” Fox said quietly.
“I get that. Just sit there and look like you’re brooding over some important matter. That’s what Samuel does most of the time anyway.”
“Of course, lord.”
Drake looked now to Viktoria. “Anything else you want to tell me while we wait?”
Viktoria kept her gaze straight ahead, and her easygoing posture and manner were a sharp contrast to the low warning in her voice. “You brought consorts to this cabal?”
“I did.” She’d picked up on that fast. “I also have a good reason.”
“Had you asked me, as your advisor, if this was advisable, I would have advised you not to do this.”
“I understand,” Drake said. “But they’re here now, so what else would you advise?”
Viktoria swept the room with her eyes. “First, I must know your consorts will not spread word of our conversation to others. Have you obtained that promise from them?”
Drake assumed Lydia had obtained a promise of discretion, but it wouldn’t hurt to verify. He looked to Lark and leaned close like he was asking Lydia an important question. “Can we trust you won’t share anything you see or hear here with anyone else?”
“Discretion is how we survive, lord,” Lark said quietly. “I would never repeat anything you said or which I saw while you had me commissioned to another living soul. To break my promise of discretion would not only endanger me, but also endanger Lark House.”
She was likely right about that. As confident as Lark might seem, she was still a courtesan in a world where manor lords could torture or kill just about anyone with impunity or, at worst, a small tithe. Drake wasn’t pleased Lark worried he might kill her if she blabbed, but he was glad he didn’t have to threaten her. He wasn’t sure how convincing he could be.
He looked to Fox as if getting a second opinion from Samuel.
“I agree with everything Lark said, lord,” Fox said. “No word of anything I hear or see during this cabal will leave my lips.”
Drake looked to Viktoria. “Satisfied?”
She nodded. “Lord Proudglade is eager to get this cabal started and be done with you. He’s confident he has already beaten you, which does cause me concern.”
“He’s an overconfident prick,” Drake said. “I’m going to remind him of that today.”
“Lord Ashwind is concerned and angry about something,” Viktoria continued. “I’ve known him long enough to know that particular vexed look. He has learned something recently that angers or upsets him, something he feels will become trouble in today’s cabal.”
Drake was glad once again he’d asked for Viktoria as his advisor. “You can tell all that just from his face?”
“That and what reports I have from my spies. Reports of Lord Ashwind’s thralls looking dour and upset. Having now seen a man I’ve known for years, Lord Ashwind has recently received bad news. News I would be more comfortable if I had received as well.”
“Got it. What’s your take on Lord Redbow?”
“He, too, is confident he can beat you, but he still believes this cabal may go either way. That is the reason he looks so pleased. An enemy who cannot wound him does not interest him. Only prey that could genuinely harm him gets him out of bed these days.”
“That’s certainly comforting,” Drake agreed wryly. “So why aren’t the others here? Lords Brightwater, Blackmane, and Frostlight?”
“Lord Frostlight had a hunt this morning. She never misses her hunts.”
“There’s game she can hunt outside the capital?”
“There are people.” Viktoria grimaced. “My spies also informed me this morning’s hunt was a success. That means she likely spent some time preparing her latest trophy.”
Drake took a breath before he asked his next question. “She hunts people?”
“They volunteer.”
“Who volunteers to be hunted by a manor lord?”
“Whether they survive or die, she awards their families a large sum of coin after the hunt. Those desperate enough to aid their families or foolish enough to believe they can defeat Lord Frostlight volunteer to be hunted. Only one person has ever escaped her, and only because she was called away on urgent business before she could complete her hunt.”
“That’s...” Drake stopped himself before he could offer his opinion on Lord Frostlight’s murderous hobby. Samuel had warned him disrespect to other manor lords could spread like sparks in dry grass. He knew Lark and Fox wouldn’t blab, but he also had only what he’d read in books to assure him the other manor lords couldn’t hear him.
“...certainly an interesting fact.” He kept his tone neutral. “What of the others?”
“My spies only know that unrest continues to plague Blackmane Manor. Though it is unconfirmed, it is possible a new blood thrall may now be involved. I suspect the negotiations as to who would sit in Lord Blackmane’s box today are going long.”
Drake groaned quietly. “So there’s three spurned lovers now?”
“Only two. As of my reports from last night, Lord Blackmane and the third thrall remain together. I do not know why he ended his relationship with the second woman.”
Lord Blackmane simply couldn’t keep it in his pants. He had to be the manor lord Proudglade had bribed or blackmailed. Given one of his prospective allies was a sullen ass and the other an undisciplined lothario, Drake was all the more glad he’d managed to get Sky to the cabal. She was now the only competent ally he had in the room.
The southern doors directly behind Lord Proudglade creaked open, a signal that another manor lord was finally arriving. Drake stared across the central circle as a muscular woman with long black hair strode into the room like she owned it. That woman’s gaze swept the boxes and found him, and when their eyes met, Drake felt all the hairs on his arms stand on end. This must be Lord Frostlight, and she must already be planning to hunt him, too.
If nothing else, that would certainly make for an interesting day.
Next Week: Drake voices a puppet, plays a trick, and kicks ass at the cabal.
Have a great weekend, everyone!
Read Ahead on the Patreon
Chat on the Discord
The box to the left of Lord Proudglade likely belonged to Lord Frostlight, judging from the name carved on the wood in front of it. Which said “Lord Frostlight”. The box beyond that was empty, suggesting it belonged to one of the two manors that had married into one of the others or the manor that had been wiped out. He’d find out later.
Drake swept his gaze back to the right along the south of the C, past Frostlight, Proudglade, and Mistvale. He passed another empty box and then found the box for Lord Brightwater. Her box was set due west of the Judge, so her territory must be clear on the other side of the land from where they were now. She also was not present yet.
Next to Brightwater was another empty box, followed by the box for Lord Redbow, which sat on the northwest of the C. It was beside Sky on her western border, which made sense with how Drake understood the geography of the world. Also, he’d had to walk through Redbow’s whole damn territory after Anna teleported him there. Not fun.
Unlike Lord Proudglade, Lord Redbow seemed genuinely pleased to see him... the same way a lion would be pleased to see a fox. Given how many times this man had tried to assassinate both of them, his obvious hunger wasn’t surprising. Drake took great pleasure in the fact that he’d survived every last assassination attempt. He even offered Redbow a mocking smile. Oddly, that only seemed to increase Lord Redbow’s pleasure all the more.
Lord Proudglade was pompous, and Lord Mistvale was intense, but Lord Redbow was just creepy, like the single adult male who drove around in a white van offering candy to kids. Redbow was dressed in a leather robe despite the heat with a fluffy white collar surrounding his neck. He wore an odd little red hat Drake would have described as a fez if it had a tassel.
Redbow’s black beard and thick eyebrows completed his sinister appearance. His face was ruddy and about as dark as Drake would expect from someone born in South America, but his teeth were immaculate, which made his smile all the more unnerving. If it came down to killing one of these manor lords, Drake would absolutely kill Lord Redbow first... or, if he wanted to be all poetic about it, send a dozen hired assassins to kill him.
Redbow’s box had five other people in it, but all wore hoods and masks. Only their eyes were visible, and Drake would take ten-to-one odds every last one of them was an experienced assassin. That was Redbow Manor’s stock in trade—assassination for hire—and while the scrubs he and Sky had both killed over the past few weeks weren’t Lord Redbow’s best, these five likely were. All five were also watching him with keen interest, which wasn’t great.
Back to his left again. Two boxes sat between him and the Judge on the northeast circle of the C. Blackmane was directly to his left, and Ashwind was directly beyond that. While Lord Blackmane wasn’t present yet, Lord Ashwind was... and he looked like was either badly constipated or simply displeased to be in the room.
Of all the manor lords gathered, Lord Ashwind looked to be the oldest in attendance, or maybe he’d just had the hardest life. Ashwind had his head shaved bald and wore a loose black robe that looked more appropriate for skulking about in shadows than a cabal.
Odder yet, Ashwind only had two people in his entourage, which meant he was the least protected manor lord in the room. Though, given his guardian easily stood as tall as Lord Crow—a full head above Drake—and the man’s muscles had muscles, he probably didn’t need another one. He also carried a giant axe that Drake knew would make Emily envious.
If Cresh, the giant zarovian leading Drake’s vanguard, had been born a human, Drake suspected Lord Ashwind’s guardian would be that guy. The fact that the giant had a long beard and half-lidded eyes that practically screamed Berserker! made Drake all the more glad he’d brought a crossbow. Though it might take more than four bolts to bring this giant down.
Lord Ashwind’s only other companion was a man who was as calm as Lord Ashwind wasn’t. He looked like this world’s equivalent of a pencil pusher, a short, thin, balding man with spectacles and a look like he’d swallowed something sour prior to the cabal. He probably didn’t want to be here either.
He and Lord Ashwind were still allies... supposedly. The same went for Lord Blackmane. Yet if Lord Proudglade intended to challenge his right to be a manor lord based on where he’d come from, he needed six manor lord votes to change the bylaws—which meant he was confident either Lord Blackmane or Lord Ashwind would vote with him.
Proudglade, Mistvale, Frostlight, Redbow, and Brightwater could call this cabal on their own—it took five manor lords to call one—but they couldn’t actually change anything without an additional vote. So who’d taken Lord Proudglade’s bribe to betray him? Lord Blackmane or Lord Redbow? Or did they have something else in mind entirely?
Drake looked away and reminded himself speculation was pointless. He’d know soon enough, and then he could take action... whatever that action was. It was too late to make an offer to Lord Ashwind or Lord Blackmane that might keep them on his side.
According to Samuel, there was only one vote Drake could be sure remained undecided: Lord Brightwater’s. She was the wildcard. Every lord today would be attempting to either form an alliance with her or at least get her to agree not to oppose him. He’d read her dossier multiple times to make sure he knew all he could about her.
Finally, Drake looked to his right again and to Lord Skybreak... Sky. He’d avoided trying to catch her gaze so far, fearing she’d still be standoffish. Instead, as he looked to her box, she looked to his. Their gazes met. He suspected she was waiting for something.
It was tempting to wink or grin, but Drake suspected either gesture would only add fuel to the rumors that Sky was crazy about him. Which would further piss her off. So Drake offered nothing but a firm, respectful nod, one manor lord to another.
Sky nodded back. As her gaze returned to the room, she looked more comfortable than she had previously. A bit of visible tension left her shoulders.
Having now gauged the room, Drake leaned over to speak quietly with Lark. “How are you enjoying your first cabal?”
None of the other manor lords could hear what they were saying even if they had a rarity that gave them super hearing—Samuel had assured Drake the magical protection on these boxes included ways to thwart that—but it was important his enemies see him consulting with “Lydia”. Assuming today went as he suspected it might.
“It is certainly different from my other engagements, lord,” Lark said just as quietly. “This is the first time any manor lord has invited me to a cabal.”
That suggested Lark had previously been engaged by other manor lords. Drake was tempted to ask which ones, but he decided that would be hopelessly rude. Not to mention he doubted Lark would answer. He didn’t want to put her in an awkward bind.
Drake turned to Fox. “And you? Anything to report?”
“Only that I am still somewhat overwhelmed, lord,” Fox said quietly.
“I get that. Just sit there and look like you’re brooding over some important matter. That’s what Samuel does most of the time anyway.”
“Of course, lord.”
Drake looked now to Viktoria. “Anything else you want to tell me while we wait?”
Viktoria kept her gaze straight ahead, and her easygoing posture and manner were a sharp contrast to the low warning in her voice. “You brought consorts to this cabal?”
“I did.” She’d picked up on that fast. “I also have a good reason.”
“Had you asked me, as your advisor, if this was advisable, I would have advised you not to do this.”
“I understand,” Drake said. “But they’re here now, so what else would you advise?”
Viktoria swept the room with her eyes. “First, I must know your consorts will not spread word of our conversation to others. Have you obtained that promise from them?”
Drake assumed Lydia had obtained a promise of discretion, but it wouldn’t hurt to verify. He looked to Lark and leaned close like he was asking Lydia an important question. “Can we trust you won’t share anything you see or hear here with anyone else?”
“Discretion is how we survive, lord,” Lark said quietly. “I would never repeat anything you said or which I saw while you had me commissioned to another living soul. To break my promise of discretion would not only endanger me, but also endanger Lark House.”
She was likely right about that. As confident as Lark might seem, she was still a courtesan in a world where manor lords could torture or kill just about anyone with impunity or, at worst, a small tithe. Drake wasn’t pleased Lark worried he might kill her if she blabbed, but he was glad he didn’t have to threaten her. He wasn’t sure how convincing he could be.
He looked to Fox as if getting a second opinion from Samuel.
“I agree with everything Lark said, lord,” Fox said. “No word of anything I hear or see during this cabal will leave my lips.”
Drake looked to Viktoria. “Satisfied?”
She nodded. “Lord Proudglade is eager to get this cabal started and be done with you. He’s confident he has already beaten you, which does cause me concern.”
“He’s an overconfident prick,” Drake said. “I’m going to remind him of that today.”
“Lord Ashwind is concerned and angry about something,” Viktoria continued. “I’ve known him long enough to know that particular vexed look. He has learned something recently that angers or upsets him, something he feels will become trouble in today’s cabal.”
Drake was glad once again he’d asked for Viktoria as his advisor. “You can tell all that just from his face?”
“That and what reports I have from my spies. Reports of Lord Ashwind’s thralls looking dour and upset. Having now seen a man I’ve known for years, Lord Ashwind has recently received bad news. News I would be more comfortable if I had received as well.”
“Got it. What’s your take on Lord Redbow?”
“He, too, is confident he can beat you, but he still believes this cabal may go either way. That is the reason he looks so pleased. An enemy who cannot wound him does not interest him. Only prey that could genuinely harm him gets him out of bed these days.”
“That’s certainly comforting,” Drake agreed wryly. “So why aren’t the others here? Lords Brightwater, Blackmane, and Frostlight?”
“Lord Frostlight had a hunt this morning. She never misses her hunts.”
“There’s game she can hunt outside the capital?”
“There are people.” Viktoria grimaced. “My spies also informed me this morning’s hunt was a success. That means she likely spent some time preparing her latest trophy.”
Drake took a breath before he asked his next question. “She hunts people?”
“They volunteer.”
“Who volunteers to be hunted by a manor lord?”
“Whether they survive or die, she awards their families a large sum of coin after the hunt. Those desperate enough to aid their families or foolish enough to believe they can defeat Lord Frostlight volunteer to be hunted. Only one person has ever escaped her, and only because she was called away on urgent business before she could complete her hunt.”
“That’s...” Drake stopped himself before he could offer his opinion on Lord Frostlight’s murderous hobby. Samuel had warned him disrespect to other manor lords could spread like sparks in dry grass. He knew Lark and Fox wouldn’t blab, but he also had only what he’d read in books to assure him the other manor lords couldn’t hear him.
“...certainly an interesting fact.” He kept his tone neutral. “What of the others?”
“My spies only know that unrest continues to plague Blackmane Manor. Though it is unconfirmed, it is possible a new blood thrall may now be involved. I suspect the negotiations as to who would sit in Lord Blackmane’s box today are going long.”
Drake groaned quietly. “So there’s three spurned lovers now?”
“Only two. As of my reports from last night, Lord Blackmane and the third thrall remain together. I do not know why he ended his relationship with the second woman.”
Lord Blackmane simply couldn’t keep it in his pants. He had to be the manor lord Proudglade had bribed or blackmailed. Given one of his prospective allies was a sullen ass and the other an undisciplined lothario, Drake was all the more glad he’d managed to get Sky to the cabal. She was now the only competent ally he had in the room.
The southern doors directly behind Lord Proudglade creaked open, a signal that another manor lord was finally arriving. Drake stared across the central circle as a muscular woman with long black hair strode into the room like she owned it. That woman’s gaze swept the boxes and found him, and when their eyes met, Drake felt all the hairs on his arms stand on end. This must be Lord Frostlight, and she must already be planning to hunt him, too.
If nothing else, that would certainly make for an interesting day.
Next Week: Drake voices a puppet, plays a trick, and kicks ass at the cabal.
Have a great weekend, everyone!
Read Ahead on the Patreon
Chat on the Discord
