The afternoon cabal began much the same way as the first, with the ringing of the fourth bell followed by a capital guard escort to the Chamber of Council. Drake had long since returned to his borrowed chambers with his new plan of action in place. He had passed the remaining time making sure Nicole wasn’t being too rough with the new thralls.
Robin, naturally, was taking to Nicole’s training regimen like a champ, while Gaby could barely keep up and Carl had the stamina but not the strength. Drake was also relieved Nicole had them doing more than running laps, though everything beyond that seemed to revolve around them trying, and failing, not to get smacked with a blunt wooden knife.
Still, every time Nicole “killed” one of them, he hoped it would make it a little less likely they’d get killed if he ever put them in the field. He still wasn’t completely sure about whether he’d be willing to send the equivalent of three high school kids off to fight for him, but to be fair, his battle maids weren’t that much older. Age was just accelerated on this world.
That was why he was going to continue to call 43-year-old Samuel “old man” until the old man either stopped being annoyed by it or got so pissed he couldn’t focus on his work. Either would be amusing. For today, he was pleased Samuel and Lydia remained unfound. Even with Anna along with them, the capital guard had yet to find Lord Redbow’s witnesses.
Once Drake was once again his manor lord box, he noted with approval that Sky had brought a thrall to the cabal she hadn’t brought this morning: Oswell, the only surviving member of Steward Rodney’s bodyguard detail. The other manor lords had likely failed to miss that detail, so the only question was if any of them would have any idea what was coming.
Drake sincerely hoped they did not.
Once the last manor lord arrived—this time, Lord Ashwind was the one who took the longest—the Judge’s booming voice once more filled the chamber.
“As Judge, I call this cabal to order. First, an update. The capital guard continues to search the city for Lydia Estoria and Samuel Marcos, who have been called by Lord Redbow as his witnesses today. Once they are found, we will suspend any business and allow Lord Redbow to question his witnesses regarding Lord Gloomwood’s questionable actions.”
So Drake defending himself from a group of mercenaries who abducted and tried to kill him was “questionable” now? He really had pissed the judge off with his consort gambit. This time, he’d spared Lark and Fox the trouble of attending the cabal. He’d instructed them to simply chill in his chambers until the day was through.
He’d paid for a full day. He was going to use it, and he suspected they both needed a break. That left him with only three people in his box: Emily, Valentia, and Lady Skybreak.
“Until then, we will resume our business,” the Judge continued. “I will now open the floor to grievances.”
Lord Proudglade stood at the same as Drake and Sky. The man glared across the chamber at Drake, obviously annoyed to see Drake standing. Drake glared back and allowed himself a small smirk. That’s right, motherfucker. I’m coming for you now.
“Lord Proudglade,” the Judge said. “Air your grievance.”
Unfortunately, the Judge letting Lord Proudglade go first wasn’t her punishing Drake for this morning. As with the orders manors did announcements, the order in which they were allowed to present grievances was also based on the founding order of the manors. Proudglade Manor had been founded before Gloomwood Manor, so Lord Proudglade got the first shot.
“I have a grievance with Lord Gloomwood,” Lord Proudglade said coldly. “Several weeks ago, he abducted my youngest son and attempted to sacrifice him in a sadistic ritual. I will not tolerate attacks on my family, nor will I abide blood sacrifice.”
“What reprisal do you claim?” the Judge asked.
“I demand recompense in blood. A duel between thralls.”
In other words, Lord Proudglade wanted Drake to choose someone from his manor to fight someone from Lord Proudglade’s manor in a battle to the death. That wasn’t happening. As much as Drake wanted to hurt Lord Proudglade, murdering the man’s thralls simply to prove a point wasn’t the direction he wanted to go... though he wouldn’t hesitate to do so if forced.
Drake said nothing for now. He still wasn’t allowed to speak, but if Lord Proudglade was going to go this route, perhaps the man really was out of ammunition. This felt more like a Hail Mary pass than something Lord Proudglade had planned in advance.
The Judge turned on Drake. “Lord Gloomwood, what do you say to this accusation?”
“Lord Proudglade is mistaken,” Drake said calmly.
The man glowered but didn’t speak.
“Explain your words,” the Judge ordered.
“It is true that the former Lord Gloomwood—”
“You are Lord Gloomwood,” the Judge interrupted coldly. “You bear all Lord Gloomwood’s debts. You will cease denying your title in this holy court.”
Wow. The Judge really was pissed off at him. He’d make due. Anyone who didn’t buy into this nonsense that each new manor lord was responsible for the crimes of the old one would understand what he meant. If he was honest with himself, he was just being picky.
“I apologize if I misspoke,” Drake said. “It is true Lord Gloomwood abducted Lord Proudglade’s youngest son and held him at my manor for a few days. However, Lord Gloomwood did not attempt to ritually sacrifice Westin. That was Lord Crow.”
“This is your last warning,” the Judge said.
“I’m not defying your order, Judge,” Drake said calmly. “I am correcting a misunderstanding held by Lord Proudglade. Before he abducted me from my realm, the former Lord Gloomwood, Lord Crow, passed his title and blood pact onto me. Before I arrived in your realm. That means, Judge, that Lord Gloomwood did not attempt to ritually sacrifice Westin.”
The chamber went completely silent as Drake repeated his bold lie from weeks ago.
“Instead, it is I, Lord Gloomwood, who saved Westin from being ritually sacrificed by Lord Crow, a man who had previously passed his blood pact to me. I also prevented Lord Crow from sacrificing me in the same ritual. As the lord of Gloomwood Manor, I defended myself from an assassin and saved Lord Proudglade’s son.”
Lord Proudglade’s gaze and glower went completely flat. Had he not known? How could he not have known? Westin must have told him, right?
“What ritual was this?” the Judge demanded.
Now to really put them on their back feet. “Lord Crow believed he could use the divine blood possessed by Westin and myself to summon and control a leviathan from the underside.”
Audible gasps filled the chamber, some even coming from his fellow manor lords. Lord Blackmane had gone pale, seemingly unaware his 18-year-old blood thrall/grooming victim now clutched his arm for dear life. Lord Ashwind’s standard glower had been replaced with a slightly more surprised glower. Even Lady Skybreak gasped quietly.
Drake realized, now, he’d never told Viktoria or Sky. He hoped they’d roll with it.
“You say Lord Crow attempted to summon a leviathan,” the Judge said quietly. Even with her voice so much softer, the silence in the room made it loud.
“Yes, Judge,” Drake said. “And I stopped him. I, Lord Gloomwood, did not simply save Westin, Lord Proudglade’s son, when I defeated Lord Crow in battle. I also thwarted his attempt to summon that leviathan. I saved this realm from the consequences that might result when I, Lord Gloomwood, executed a man who committed an unforgivable crime.”
No one spoke. Not even the Judge. Drake let them chew on what they’d begged for and kept his face calm. This was not the time to look smug. His words had already expressed everything he wanted to express.
The Judge finally spoke. “The noble court will launch an investigation into the unforgivable crime you report. When our inquisitor arrives at your manor, we will expect full cooperation from you and your blood thralls. We will be interviewing everyone.”
“Of course, Judge,” Drake said. “I have only one request.”
The Judge’s eyes narrowed. “As a manor lord, that is your right.” She left unsaid that she was warning him not to ask for anything big.
“I ask only that the inquisitor’s interrogation of my blood thralls be confined to matters relating to Lord Crow’s attempted leviathan summoning,” Drake said. “I trust my thralls and share many secrets with those in my manor. So I would only be comfortable allowing your inquisitor to interview them if all questions remain focused on the summoning attempt.”
Even Lydia didn’t know the exact circumstances of what had happened in the ritual chamber that first day. Drake had made sure of that. No one could betray this particular lie.
“The investigation will take place as you request,” the Judge said, as Drake could almost hear her snarkily adding, Obviously. “Is that your only request?”
“It is.” Drake inclined his head. “I want this matter cleared up as much as you do.”
“It will be,” the Judge assured him grimly. She looked back to Lord Proudglade. “Lord Gloomwood has offered a different account of events than yours. Do you dispute his words?”
“I request a moment to confer with my advisors,” Lord Proudglade said stiffly.
“You have five minutes,” the Judge said. “Be prompt.”
As Lord Proudglade glanced at his son, Drake could see Westin hunkered down in his seat. He looked as uncomfortable as if he’d just been caught trying to sneak out while grounded. So he really had kept this news from his dad.
What had happened after Drake freed Westin and lied to him about the ritual? Westin really hadn’t told his father about Drake saving him? Or was Lord Proudglade putting on an act because he hadn’t expected Drake to just bring up an unforgivable crime?
An act didn’t feel like Lord Proudglade. He seemed far too blunt and “honorable” to resort to playacting in the cabal. Why would Westin keep their discussion from his father? Hadn’t Westin known it could get his father in trouble if he brought it up in the cabal?
No matter. Drake remembered one of the favorite pieces of military advice he’d ever heard in school. Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.
Lord Proudglade’s short conference with Westin and his other thralls took far less time than five minutes. Drake mentally counted. When Lord Proudglade returned his attention to the judge, he looked resigned. “I do not dispute Lord Gloomwood’s account of events. But in recompense for Lord Gloomwood’s abduction of my son Westin, I demand a tithe.”
The Judge turned back to Drake. “Do you agree?”
“I call for a vote from my peers as to whether we should pay a tithe or dismiss the matter,” Drake said. That was his right as a manor lord. “I also demand we consider that I saved Westin’s life and stopped a demon summoning.”
“The record is clear,” the Judge said coolly. “Does any manor lord second the vote?”
“I second,” Sky said. There was no reason to expect enough manor lords would vote with them to keep Drake from paying a tithe, but they could still try.
“The vote is called,” the Judge said. “If you agree the grievance between Lord Proudglade and Lord Gloomwood should be resolved with a tithe, raise your hand. Otherwise, stay your hands and we will consider the matter settled without recompense.”
The results weren’t surprising. Neither Sky nor Lord Blackmane raised their hands—questionable dating decisions aside, at least Drake could count on Lord Blackmane for his vote—but even else, including Lord Brightwater, raised their hands. He’d tried.
“The vote is six to three. The noble court decrees Lord Gloomwood must pay Lord Proudglade a tithe to compensate him for abducting his son, Westin.”
Drake inclined his head. “Then I will resolve the matter with Lord Proudglade when we are both available to do so.” He was going to make this fucker fight for every cent.
“Do you have other grievances to air before this court?” the Judge asked Lord Proudglade.
“I do,” the man said stiffly.
“You may air your next grievance after Lord Gloomwood and Lord Skybreak have offered their grievances.” She remained tough but fair. “Lord Gloomwood.” The Judge turned to face him once more. “What grievance do you bring before the noble court today?”
“I have a grievance with Lord Proudglade, Lord Mistvale, Lord Frostlight, and Lord Redbow. One of them attempted to falsely bring me and my ally, Lord Skybreak, to war.”
“Against which lord to you claim grievance?” the Judge asked.
“All of them.” Drake swept his gaze across his enemies box by box. “But if one of you wants to speak up, I’ll narrow it down.”
None of the four he’d named confessed on the spot. After he’d given everyone in the room time to process their hesitance, Drake nodded. “I have witnesses to testify as to how I have been wronged by the manor lords I’ve just named. I wish to call my first witness.”
“Name them,” the Judge said.
“I call Lord Skybreak’s thrall, Oswell, to speak before the noble court.”
The afternoon cabal began much the same way as the first, with the ringing of the fourth bell followed by a capital guard escort to the Chamber of Council. Drake had long since returned to his borrowed chambers with his new plan of action in place. He had passed the remaining time making sure Nicole wasn’t being too rough with the new thralls.
Robin, naturally, was taking to Nicole’s training regimen like a champ, while Gaby could barely keep up and Carl had the stamina but not the strength. Drake was also relieved Nicole had them doing more than running laps, though everything beyond that seemed to revolve around them trying, and failing, not to get smacked with a blunt wooden knife.
Still, every time Nicole “killed” one of them, he hoped it would make it a little less likely they’d get killed if he ever put them in the field. He still wasn’t completely sure about whether he’d be willing to send the equivalent of three high school kids off to fight for him, but to be fair, his battle maids weren’t that much older. Age was just accelerated on this world.
That was why he was going to continue to call 43-year-old Samuel “old man” until the old man either stopped being annoyed by it or got so pissed he couldn’t focus on his work. Either would be amusing. For today, he was pleased Samuel and Lydia remained unfound. Even with Anna along with them, the capital guard had yet to find Lord Redbow’s witnesses.
Once Drake was once again his manor lord box, he noted with approval that Sky had brought a thrall to the cabal she hadn’t brought this morning: Oswell, the only surviving member of Steward Rodney’s bodyguard detail. The other manor lords had likely failed to miss that detail, so the only question was if any of them would have any idea what was coming.
Drake sincerely hoped they did not.
Once the last manor lord arrived—this time, Lord Ashwind was the one who took the longest—the Judge’s booming voice once more filled the chamber.
“As Judge, I call this cabal to order. First, an update. The capital guard continues to search the city for Lydia Estoria and Samuel Marcos, who have been called by Lord Redbow as his witnesses today. Once they are found, we will suspend any business and allow Lord Redbow to question his witnesses regarding Lord Gloomwood’s questionable actions.”
So Drake defending himself from a group of mercenaries who abducted and tried to kill him was “questionable” now? He really had pissed the judge off with his consort gambit. This time, he’d spared Lark and Fox the trouble of attending the cabal. He’d instructed them to simply chill in his chambers until the day was through.
He’d paid for a full day. He was going to use it, and he suspected they both needed a break. That left him with only three people in his box: Emily, Valentia, and Lady Skybreak.
“Until then, we will resume our business,” the Judge continued. “I will now open the floor to grievances.”
Lord Proudglade stood at the same as Drake and Sky. The man glared across the chamber at Drake, obviously annoyed to see Drake standing. Drake glared back and allowed himself a small smirk. That’s right, motherfucker. I’m coming for you now.
“Lord Proudglade,” the Judge said. “Air your grievance.”
Unfortunately, the Judge letting Lord Proudglade go first wasn’t her punishing Drake for this morning. As with the orders manors did announcements, the order in which they were allowed to present grievances was also based on the founding order of the manors. Proudglade Manor had been founded before Gloomwood Manor, so Lord Proudglade got the first shot.
“I have a grievance with Lord Gloomwood,” Lord Proudglade said coldly. “Several weeks ago, he abducted my youngest son and attempted to sacrifice him in a sadistic ritual. I will not tolerate attacks on my family, nor will I abide blood sacrifice.”
“What reprisal do you claim?” the Judge asked.
“I demand recompense in blood. A duel between thralls.”
In other words, Lord Proudglade wanted Drake to choose someone from his manor to fight someone from Lord Proudglade’s manor in a battle to the death. That wasn’t happening. As much as Drake wanted to hurt Lord Proudglade, murdering the man’s thralls simply to prove a point wasn’t the direction he wanted to go... though he wouldn’t hesitate to do so if forced.
Drake said nothing for now. He still wasn’t allowed to speak, but if Lord Proudglade was going to go this route, perhaps the man really was out of ammunition. This felt more like a Hail Mary pass than something Lord Proudglade had planned in advance.
The Judge turned on Drake. “Lord Gloomwood, what do you say to this accusation?”
“Lord Proudglade is mistaken,” Drake said calmly.
The man glowered but didn’t speak.
“Explain your words,” the Judge ordered.
“It is true that the former Lord Gloomwood—”
“You are Lord Gloomwood,” the Judge interrupted coldly. “You bear all Lord Gloomwood’s debts. You will cease denying your title in this holy court.”
Wow. The Judge really was pissed off at him. He’d make due. Anyone who didn’t buy into this nonsense that each new manor lord was responsible for the crimes of the old one would understand what he meant. If he was honest with himself, he was just being picky.
“I apologize if I misspoke,” Drake said. “It is true Lord Gloomwood abducted Lord Proudglade’s youngest son and held him at my manor for a few days. However, Lord Gloomwood did not attempt to ritually sacrifice Westin. That was Lord Crow.”
“This is your last warning,” the Judge said.
“I’m not defying your order, Judge,” Drake said calmly. “I am correcting a misunderstanding held by Lord Proudglade. Before he abducted me from my realm, the former Lord Gloomwood, Lord Crow, passed his title and blood pact onto me. Before I arrived in your realm. That means, Judge, that Lord Gloomwood did not attempt to ritually sacrifice Westin.”
The chamber went completely silent as Drake repeated his bold lie from weeks ago.
“Instead, it is I, Lord Gloomwood, who saved Westin from being ritually sacrificed by Lord Crow, a man who had previously passed his blood pact to me. I also prevented Lord Crow from sacrificing me in the same ritual. As the lord of Gloomwood Manor, I defended myself from an assassin and saved Lord Proudglade’s son.”
Lord Proudglade’s gaze and glower went completely flat. Had he not known? How could he not have known? Westin must have told him, right?
“What ritual was this?” the Judge demanded.
Now to really put them on their back feet. “Lord Crow believed he could use the divine blood possessed by Westin and myself to summon and control a leviathan from the underside.”
Audible gasps filled the chamber, some even coming from his fellow manor lords. Lord Blackmane had gone pale, seemingly unaware his 18-year-old blood thrall/grooming victim now clutched his arm for dear life. Lord Ashwind’s standard glower had been replaced with a slightly more surprised glower. Even Lady Skybreak gasped quietly.
Drake realized, now, he’d never told Viktoria or Sky. He hoped they’d roll with it.
“You say Lord Crow attempted to summon a leviathan,” the Judge said quietly. Even with her voice so much softer, the silence in the room made it loud.
“Yes, Judge,” Drake said. “And I stopped him. I, Lord Gloomwood, did not simply save Westin, Lord Proudglade’s son, when I defeated Lord Crow in battle. I also thwarted his attempt to summon that leviathan. I saved this realm from the consequences that might result when I, Lord Gloomwood, executed a man who committed an unforgivable crime.”
No one spoke. Not even the Judge. Drake let them chew on what they’d begged for and kept his face calm. This was not the time to look smug. His words had already expressed everything he wanted to express.
The Judge finally spoke. “The noble court will launch an investigation into the unforgivable crime you report. When our inquisitor arrives at your manor, we will expect full cooperation from you and your blood thralls. We will be interviewing everyone.”
“Of course, Judge,” Drake said. “I have only one request.”
The Judge’s eyes narrowed. “As a manor lord, that is your right.” She left unsaid that she was warning him not to ask for anything big.
“I ask only that the inquisitor’s interrogation of my blood thralls be confined to matters relating to Lord Crow’s attempted leviathan summoning,” Drake said. “I trust my thralls and share many secrets with those in my manor. So I would only be comfortable allowing your inquisitor to interview them if all questions remain focused on the summoning attempt.”
Even Lydia didn’t know the exact circumstances of what had happened in the ritual chamber that first day. Drake had made sure of that. No one could betray this particular lie.
“The investigation will take place as you request,” the Judge said, as Drake could almost hear her snarkily adding, Obviously. “Is that your only request?”
“It is.” Drake inclined his head. “I want this matter cleared up as much as you do.”
“It will be,” the Judge assured him grimly. She looked back to Lord Proudglade. “Lord Gloomwood has offered a different account of events than yours. Do you dispute his words?”
“I request a moment to confer with my advisors,” Lord Proudglade said stiffly.
“You have five minutes,” the Judge said. “Be prompt.”
As Lord Proudglade glanced at his son, Drake could see Westin hunkered down in his seat. He looked as uncomfortable as if he’d just been caught trying to sneak out while grounded. So he really had kept this news from his dad.
What had happened after Drake freed Westin and lied to him about the ritual? Westin really hadn’t told his father about Drake saving him? Or was Lord Proudglade putting on an act because he hadn’t expected Drake to just bring up an unforgivable crime?
An act didn’t feel like Lord Proudglade. He seemed far too blunt and “honorable” to resort to playacting in the cabal. Why would Westin keep their discussion from his father? Hadn’t Westin known it could get his father in trouble if he brought it up in the cabal?
No matter. Drake remembered one of the favorite pieces of military advice he’d ever heard in school. Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.
Lord Proudglade’s short conference with Westin and his other thralls took far less time than five minutes. Drake mentally counted. When Lord Proudglade returned his attention to the judge, he looked resigned. “I do not dispute Lord Gloomwood’s account of events. But in recompense for Lord Gloomwood’s abduction of my son Westin, I demand a tithe.”
The Judge turned back to Drake. “Do you agree?”
“I call for a vote from my peers as to whether we should pay a tithe or dismiss the matter,” Drake said. That was his right as a manor lord. “I also demand we consider that I saved Westin’s life and stopped a demon summoning.”
“The record is clear,” the Judge said coolly. “Does any manor lord second the vote?”
“I second,” Sky said. There was no reason to expect enough manor lords would vote with them to keep Drake from paying a tithe, but they could still try.
“The vote is called,” the Judge said. “If you agree the grievance between Lord Proudglade and Lord Gloomwood should be resolved with a tithe, raise your hand. Otherwise, stay your hands and we will consider the matter settled without recompense.”
The results weren’t surprising. Neither Sky nor Lord Blackmane raised their hands—questionable dating decisions aside, at least Drake could count on Lord Blackmane for his vote—but even else, including Lord Brightwater, raised their hands. He’d tried.
“The vote is six to three. The noble court decrees Lord Gloomwood must pay Lord Proudglade a tithe to compensate him for abducting his son, Westin.”
Drake inclined his head. “Then I will resolve the matter with Lord Proudglade when we are both available to do so.” He was going to make this fucker fight for every cent.
“Do you have other grievances to air before this court?” the Judge asked Lord Proudglade.
“I do,” the man said stiffly.
“You may air your next grievance after Lord Gloomwood and Lord Skybreak have offered their grievances.” She remained tough but fair. “Lord Gloomwood.” The Judge turned to face him once more. “What grievance do you bring before the noble court today?”
“I have a grievance with Lord Proudglade, Lord Mistvale, Lord Frostlight, and Lord Redbow. One of them attempted to falsely bring me and my ally, Lord Skybreak, to war.”
“Against which lord to you claim grievance?” the Judge asked.
“All of them.” Drake swept his gaze across his enemies box by box. “But if one of you wants to speak up, I’ll narrow it down.”
None of the four he’d named confessed on the spot. After he’d given everyone in the room time to process their hesitance, Drake nodded. “I have witnesses to testify as to how I have been wronged by the manor lords I’ve just named. I wish to call my first witness.”
“Name them,” the Judge said.
“I call Lord Skybreak’s thrall, Oswell, to speak before the noble court.”
