Lord Frostlight wore a dark cloak over a black silverweave shirt and an assortment of golden collars and necklaces, but she didn’t wear them the way a rich person might wear them. She wore them like trophies, like a hunter might wear the skins of animals she’d killed. Drake suspected these were the prized treasures of those she had assassinated.
This was a former assassin who hunted people for fun. Her stone cold expression would rival Valentia’s on a bad day, except Drake had never sensed true malice from Valentia... at least not directed at him. Lord Frostlight, by comparison, looked like malice incarnate.
Frostlight held their gaze just long enough to ensure he knew she was already thinking of a dozen ways she could carve him up with her wind slicing rarity... while he was still alive. She then continued down the aisle, past Lord Proudglade, and through the empty box beside Proudglade to her own. Though her thralls were dressed like warriors, in dark leather armor or robes, all walked like people terrified an axe would fall at any moment.
Drake wondered how many of those folks were the blood thralls of the former Lord Frostlight and how many she had taken by force since. Either way, Drake now knew he was looking at what Gloomwood Manor might have looked like had Suck succeeded in killing him before he altered the blood pact to protect his people.
Two manor lords remained. How much longer would he have to wait? The question was answered when the western doors opened only to be almost simultaneously joined by those to the east. The last two manor lords for this cabal walked in at the same time, and Drake resisted the urge to quickly glance between them like a dumbstruck fan at a concert venue.
As he finally laid eyes on Lord Blackmane, it was all Drake could do not to groan. The dark-haired manor lord looked like the lead singer of a hair metal band, with lustrous raven hair that fell across his muscular shoulders. He was also at least as old as Viktoria, likely mid to late forties, which made the blond blood thrall on his arm even more inappropriate.
Her silverweave had an actual cleavage window, she looked to be about the same age as Olivia: 18. She was obviously Lord Blackmane’s date. Given her figure, Drake could easily imagine why Lord Blackmane had recruited her... which might not be for her rarity. Then again, Olivia was even less dangerous looking than this, and she could summon chainfire.
Still, the fact that a woman young enough to be Lord Blackmane’s daughter was the third blood thrall he’d fucked this month meant at least one manor lord in this world was intent on starting his own harem. Which made Lord Blackmane a piece of shit. Drake now suspected he knew how Sky felt when she was forced to ally with the old Lord Gloomwood.
Lord Blackmane caught Drake looking his way and offered the most confident grin Drake could imagine. He looked so impossibly pleased with himself. It made Drake long to walk over and punch him repeatedly in his larger-than-average nose.
Last but not least, Drake took in the last manor lord to arrive, Lord Brightwater: the undecided manor lord who would tilt the table if she agreed to join Lord Proudglade and his three muskadicks. She was the woman he needed to win over if he wanted to stay alive.
Drake was relieved to find Lord Brightwater didn’t look nearly so much like a psycho as the rest of them. Her features were unadorned and pleasant, and she had a no nonsense look about her that he appreciated after seeing everyone else. In comparison to the others, Lord Brightwater looked like a reasonable individual, which meant he had a chance to convince her not to become his enemy.
Brightwater’s dark hair looked even messier than his, but given how stiff it was, Drake suspected she’d done it up that way on purpose. A cultural thing? She wore unadorned dark green robes and had a single medallion about the diameter of a baseball hanging off a thin necklace. The medallion reminded Drake of a cresting wave.
The men with Lord Brightwater—and all five of her thralls were men, which was unusual for manor lords given how women usually got the most powerful rarities—all looked as no nonsense as Lord Brightwater, thralls who weren’t here to fight but would absolutely throw down if anyone so much as threatened their manor lord. They dressed in light cloth and leather.
These five men reminded Drake of Sky’s people. Perhaps they didn’t serve Lord Brightwater because of the blood pact or because they were afraid of being murdered. Perhaps they served her because they trusted and respected her. This was a woman he’d love as an ally... if he and Sky could convince her to alter her blood pact like they already had. If only a former Lord Gloomwood hadn’t assassinated one of her predecessors.
“Lord Brightwater has brought her own crew to the cabal,” Viktoria said softly. “I suspected she might make such a gesture. This is a good sign for us.”
“Oh?” Drake was glad to finally get some good news. “How so?”
“Those men are her blood thralls, but many of them don’t have rarities. They are, however, the most competent sailors you will ever encounter on the sea. By bringing them as her entourage, she intends to make a point that rarities aren’t the only value of worth.”
Drake nodded eagerly and motioned for Viktoria to continue.
“Given how many people inhabit her manor, Lord Brightwater could not staff her ships or ports purely with those with divine blood. While immigration is discouraged and difficult, those fortunate enough to be born in Brightwater Manor’s territory without a rarity have it better than most. Sailing or working the docks is safer than mercenary work.”
Drake remembered the story Valentia had told him about her father, a sailor who had died in Brightwater. Still, perhaps he had been the exception and not the rule. The fact that Lord Brightwater seemed to respect people for their skills rather than their rarities was another huge point in her favor... for him.
Drake went back over all he’d learned about the seas around this realm. “You said she has lots of ships. Doesn’t that mean she’s often in conflict with the kromians?” Those were the merpeople who had to be appeased before any ship could travel from this realm to the other two land masses in this world.
“Lord Brightwater’s manor includes a number of island chains, all of which produce experienced sailors. The kromian empire allows free passage between those islands and along the shallow waters riding our coasts. For that reason, most commerce now travels by sea. Without Lord Brightwater’s fleet of commercial ships commerce would grind to a halt.”
“Which is why Lord Proudglade desperately wants her as his next ally,” Drake agreed. “If he can recruit her, he can ask her to enforce trade blockades against anyone who opposes what would then be the big five. Choke his allies without even starting a siege.”
“You are correct in that. My daughter’s manor is self-sufficient, and most commerce to yours comes across land. But Ashwind Manor is entirely dependent on commerce from the sea for food and medicine, and Blackmane Manor relies heavily on the sea trade as well. If Lord Brightwater joins Lord Proudglade’s alliance, Ashwind and Blackmane will have no choice but to surrender or fall in line.”
“Which means the other four are free to wipe the floor with me and Lord Skybreak,” Drake agreed. “Fortunately, today, that’s not going to happen.”
Viktoria glanced his way for the first time. “Why do I find your confidence unnerving?”
“Everyone does at first,” Drake assured her. “Then, they learn I can back up my words.”
“You did rescue both me and my daughter from a situation I thought would be our doom.” Viktoria was referring to when he teleported them and their blood thralls safely out of Fort Graystone. “I can only hope you will prove equally impressive today.”
Drake again resisted the urge to wink. He definitely didn’t need rumors about him being with Lady Skybreak joining those about Sky. “Keep me advised like you have and I will be.”
A loud, clear bell rang through the chamber, one that immediately drew Drake’s attention to the central stage. The Judge sat now with a placid yet terrifying expression that reminded Drake of a particular teacher he’d had in high school, the one old enough to be close to retirement and mean enough to get you expelled if you messed with her.
There was no doubt in his mind. The Judge was the teacher he’d had in school who absolutely no kid dared fuck with. No one wanted that kind of trouble to come down on their heads, so he could only hope this Judge would be as impartial as Samuel had claimed.
Because Drake suspected, if everything went down as he anticipated it might, the Judge wouldn’t be all that happy with his antics today. He’d simply have to convince her he wasn’t disrespecting her or her noble court. Even so, he was as prepared for this as he could be.
Time to go big or go home dead.
“As Judge, I call this cabal to order!” The Judge spoke with absolute and booming authority. “Nine manor lords were summoned! Who has come?”
Drake knew the procedure because he’d memorized it along with the rest of the stuff he’d need to know. Long ago, at one of the first cabals, the manor lords had voted on the order they would announce themselves at each subsequent cabal. It went by how long each manor had existed, meaning the oldest manor went first. That was Mistvale Manor.
Lord Mistvale rose and swept aside his pointless cape. “I am Lord Mistvale. I have come as summoned to honor the wishes of the noble court.” His voice was as prim and proper as the snootiest vampires Drake had ever seen on TV.
The other manor lords rose in turn. Proudglade came next, followed by Brightwater. Then it was Drake’s turn—Gloomwood Manor was the fourth manor to be founded, with Skybreak right after—followed by Frostlight, Ashwind, Blackmane, and lastly, Redbow.
Drake had already known Redbow Manor was the last manor to be founded. He also knew a bit about their history. They’d actually started a manor devoted to hunting beasts and honoring archers. That, of course, had only lasted a decade or so.
In the first few decades after the manors began to jockey for power, countless assassins were hired by competing manor lords. Few succeeded in killing their targets, but eventually, they formed their own guilds. And when one particularly clever assassin seized a blood pact by assassinating Lord Redbow during his hunt, she took over his manor herself.
With her own manor, the new Lord Redbow gathered up all her assassin friends and officially went into the killing-for-hire business. That was how Redbow Manor went from hunting animals to people. It was also rumored the Gilded Blades, the group of super assassins that had included Suck, were part of Redbow Manor, though they were officially independent.
Plausible deniability. With manor lords and their psycho system of blaming all lords for the actions of the lords who’d come before, it all came down to plausible deniability. All Samuel could tell him for certain was that no Lord Redbow had ever been assassinated by a Gilded Blade.
Once the introductions were out of the way, The Judge spoke again. Drake had read how the cabal would go in the books Samuel offered, but it was still nerve-wracking to see it all in action. He should have brought notes, but he’d been afraid another manor lord might see him reading them and take his reliance on notes as a sign of weakness.
“Lord Proudglade called for this cabal,” the Judge said calmly. “Five manor lords have joined him. I now call upon these lords to stand.”
Lords Proudglade, Mistvale, Frostlight, and Redbow all stood as expected. Lord Brightwater, however, did not. So she wasn’t fully on board with Lord Proudglade’s machinations. This was good news... until Lord Ashwind stood in Lord Brightwater’s place.
Drake cursed mentally. He had been all but certain Lord Blackmane was the one who’d betrayed him, which would have left him with a sullen but marginally competent ally in Lord Ashwind. Instead, it looked like Lord Proudglade had won over Lord Ashwind with a carrot or a stick, which meant he now had only two allies in this room. Sky... and Lord Haremhunter.
Keeping his title today going to be more difficult than he’d expected.
Lord Frostlight wore a dark cloak over a black silverweave shirt and an assortment of golden collars and necklaces, but she didn’t wear them the way a rich person might wear them. She wore them like trophies, like a hunter might wear the skins of animals she’d killed. Drake suspected these were the prized treasures of those she had assassinated.
This was a former assassin who hunted people for fun. Her stone cold expression would rival Valentia’s on a bad day, except Drake had never sensed true malice from Valentia... at least not directed at him. Lord Frostlight, by comparison, looked like malice incarnate.
Frostlight held their gaze just long enough to ensure he knew she was already thinking of a dozen ways she could carve him up with her wind slicing rarity... while he was still alive. She then continued down the aisle, past Lord Proudglade, and through the empty box beside Proudglade to her own. Though her thralls were dressed like warriors, in dark leather armor or robes, all walked like people terrified an axe would fall at any moment.
Drake wondered how many of those folks were the blood thralls of the former Lord Frostlight and how many she had taken by force since. Either way, Drake now knew he was looking at what Gloomwood Manor might have looked like had Suck succeeded in killing him before he altered the blood pact to protect his people.
Two manor lords remained. How much longer would he have to wait? The question was answered when the western doors opened only to be almost simultaneously joined by those to the east. The last two manor lords for this cabal walked in at the same time, and Drake resisted the urge to quickly glance between them like a dumbstruck fan at a concert venue.
As he finally laid eyes on Lord Blackmane, it was all Drake could do not to groan. The dark-haired manor lord looked like the lead singer of a hair metal band, with lustrous raven hair that fell across his muscular shoulders. He was also at least as old as Viktoria, likely mid to late forties, which made the blond blood thrall on his arm even more inappropriate.
Her silverweave had an actual cleavage window, she looked to be about the same age as Olivia: 18. She was obviously Lord Blackmane’s date. Given her figure, Drake could easily imagine why Lord Blackmane had recruited her... which might not be for her rarity. Then again, Olivia was even less dangerous looking than this, and she could summon chainfire.
Still, the fact that a woman young enough to be Lord Blackmane’s daughter was the third blood thrall he’d fucked this month meant at least one manor lord in this world was intent on starting his own harem. Which made Lord Blackmane a piece of shit. Drake now suspected he knew how Sky felt when she was forced to ally with the old Lord Gloomwood.
Lord Blackmane caught Drake looking his way and offered the most confident grin Drake could imagine. He looked so impossibly pleased with himself. It made Drake long to walk over and punch him repeatedly in his larger-than-average nose.
Last but not least, Drake took in the last manor lord to arrive, Lord Brightwater: the undecided manor lord who would tilt the table if she agreed to join Lord Proudglade and his three muskadicks. She was the woman he needed to win over if he wanted to stay alive.
Drake was relieved to find Lord Brightwater didn’t look nearly so much like a psycho as the rest of them. Her features were unadorned and pleasant, and she had a no nonsense look about her that he appreciated after seeing everyone else. In comparison to the others, Lord Brightwater looked like a reasonable individual, which meant he had a chance to convince her not to become his enemy.
Brightwater’s dark hair looked even messier than his, but given how stiff it was, Drake suspected she’d done it up that way on purpose. A cultural thing? She wore unadorned dark green robes and had a single medallion about the diameter of a baseball hanging off a thin necklace. The medallion reminded Drake of a cresting wave.
The men with Lord Brightwater—and all five of her thralls were men, which was unusual for manor lords given how women usually got the most powerful rarities—all looked as no nonsense as Lord Brightwater, thralls who weren’t here to fight but would absolutely throw down if anyone so much as threatened their manor lord. They dressed in light cloth and leather.
These five men reminded Drake of Sky’s people. Perhaps they didn’t serve Lord Brightwater because of the blood pact or because they were afraid of being murdered. Perhaps they served her because they trusted and respected her. This was a woman he’d love as an ally... if he and Sky could convince her to alter her blood pact like they already had. If only a former Lord Gloomwood hadn’t assassinated one of her predecessors.
“Lord Brightwater has brought her own crew to the cabal,” Viktoria said softly. “I suspected she might make such a gesture. This is a good sign for us.”
“Oh?” Drake was glad to finally get some good news. “How so?”
“Those men are her blood thralls, but many of them don’t have rarities. They are, however, the most competent sailors you will ever encounter on the sea. By bringing them as her entourage, she intends to make a point that rarities aren’t the only value of worth.”
Drake nodded eagerly and motioned for Viktoria to continue.
“Given how many people inhabit her manor, Lord Brightwater could not staff her ships or ports purely with those with divine blood. While immigration is discouraged and difficult, those fortunate enough to be born in Brightwater Manor’s territory without a rarity have it better than most. Sailing or working the docks is safer than mercenary work.”
Drake remembered the story Valentia had told him about her father, a sailor who had died in Brightwater. Still, perhaps he had been the exception and not the rule. The fact that Lord Brightwater seemed to respect people for their skills rather than their rarities was another huge point in her favor... for him.
Drake went back over all he’d learned about the seas around this realm. “You said she has lots of ships. Doesn’t that mean she’s often in conflict with the kromians?” Those were the merpeople who had to be appeased before any ship could travel from this realm to the other two land masses in this world.
“Lord Brightwater’s manor includes a number of island chains, all of which produce experienced sailors. The kromian empire allows free passage between those islands and along the shallow waters riding our coasts. For that reason, most commerce now travels by sea. Without Lord Brightwater’s fleet of commercial ships commerce would grind to a halt.”
“Which is why Lord Proudglade desperately wants her as his next ally,” Drake agreed. “If he can recruit her, he can ask her to enforce trade blockades against anyone who opposes what would then be the big five. Choke his allies without even starting a siege.”
“You are correct in that. My daughter’s manor is self-sufficient, and most commerce to yours comes across land. But Ashwind Manor is entirely dependent on commerce from the sea for food and medicine, and Blackmane Manor relies heavily on the sea trade as well. If Lord Brightwater joins Lord Proudglade’s alliance, Ashwind and Blackmane will have no choice but to surrender or fall in line.”
“Which means the other four are free to wipe the floor with me and Lord Skybreak,” Drake agreed. “Fortunately, today, that’s not going to happen.”
Viktoria glanced his way for the first time. “Why do I find your confidence unnerving?”
“Everyone does at first,” Drake assured her. “Then, they learn I can back up my words.”
“You did rescue both me and my daughter from a situation I thought would be our doom.” Viktoria was referring to when he teleported them and their blood thralls safely out of Fort Graystone. “I can only hope you will prove equally impressive today.”
Drake again resisted the urge to wink. He definitely didn’t need rumors about him being with Lady Skybreak joining those about Sky. “Keep me advised like you have and I will be.”
A loud, clear bell rang through the chamber, one that immediately drew Drake’s attention to the central stage. The Judge sat now with a placid yet terrifying expression that reminded Drake of a particular teacher he’d had in high school, the one old enough to be close to retirement and mean enough to get you expelled if you messed with her.
There was no doubt in his mind. The Judge was the teacher he’d had in school who absolutely no kid dared fuck with. No one wanted that kind of trouble to come down on their heads, so he could only hope this Judge would be as impartial as Samuel had claimed.
Because Drake suspected, if everything went down as he anticipated it might, the Judge wouldn’t be all that happy with his antics today. He’d simply have to convince her he wasn’t disrespecting her or her noble court. Even so, he was as prepared for this as he could be.
Time to go big or go home dead.
“As Judge, I call this cabal to order!” The Judge spoke with absolute and booming authority. “Nine manor lords were summoned! Who has come?”
Drake knew the procedure because he’d memorized it along with the rest of the stuff he’d need to know. Long ago, at one of the first cabals, the manor lords had voted on the order they would announce themselves at each subsequent cabal. It went by how long each manor had existed, meaning the oldest manor went first. That was Mistvale Manor.
Lord Mistvale rose and swept aside his pointless cape. “I am Lord Mistvale. I have come as summoned to honor the wishes of the noble court.” His voice was as prim and proper as the snootiest vampires Drake had ever seen on TV.
The other manor lords rose in turn. Proudglade came next, followed by Brightwater. Then it was Drake’s turn—Gloomwood Manor was the fourth manor to be founded, with Skybreak right after—followed by Frostlight, Ashwind, Blackmane, and lastly, Redbow.
Drake had already known Redbow Manor was the last manor to be founded. He also knew a bit about their history. They’d actually started a manor devoted to hunting beasts and honoring archers. That, of course, had only lasted a decade or so.
In the first few decades after the manors began to jockey for power, countless assassins were hired by competing manor lords. Few succeeded in killing their targets, but eventually, they formed their own guilds. And when one particularly clever assassin seized a blood pact by assassinating Lord Redbow during his hunt, she took over his manor herself.
With her own manor, the new Lord Redbow gathered up all her assassin friends and officially went into the killing-for-hire business. That was how Redbow Manor went from hunting animals to people. It was also rumored the Gilded Blades, the group of super assassins that had included Suck, were part of Redbow Manor, though they were officially independent.
Plausible deniability. With manor lords and their psycho system of blaming all lords for the actions of the lords who’d come before, it all came down to plausible deniability. All Samuel could tell him for certain was that no Lord Redbow had ever been assassinated by a Gilded Blade.
Once the introductions were out of the way, The Judge spoke again. Drake had read how the cabal would go in the books Samuel offered, but it was still nerve-wracking to see it all in action. He should have brought notes, but he’d been afraid another manor lord might see him reading them and take his reliance on notes as a sign of weakness.
“Lord Proudglade called for this cabal,” the Judge said calmly. “Five manor lords have joined him. I now call upon these lords to stand.”
Lords Proudglade, Mistvale, Frostlight, and Redbow all stood as expected. Lord Brightwater, however, did not. So she wasn’t fully on board with Lord Proudglade’s machinations. This was good news... until Lord Ashwind stood in Lord Brightwater’s place.
Drake cursed mentally. He had been all but certain Lord Blackmane was the one who’d betrayed him, which would have left him with a sullen but marginally competent ally in Lord Ashwind. Instead, it looked like Lord Proudglade had won over Lord Ashwind with a carrot or a stick, which meant he now had only two allies in this room. Sky... and Lord Haremhunter.
Keeping his title today going to be more difficult than he’d expected.
