Soon after, lots of shouting began outside, but it wasn’t the frantic kind. It was simply the kind of shouting people did when there were a bunch of them and they had six vehicles, a bunch of horses, and a bunch of people to organize. A whip cracked from directly ahead, and then Drake felt the whole carriage jerk into motion. Wheels clattered as hooves clopped.
He was riding. To a fantasy city. In a carriage. With a battle maid. For a moment, the sheer ridiculous novelty of this situation made him grin like an idiot, but he tamped that down hard. He didn’t want Lydia to think he’d suddenly gone insane.
From speaking with Olivia, he knew some of Valentia’s orders. Olivia would all be staying at the manor to lead Zuri and a skeleton crew. They’d handle daily upkeep and make sure it didn’t fall apart or get taken over. Olivia would manage the manor while Zuri would continue to manage matters in towns that swore loyalty to Lord Gloomwood.
Drake wasn’t crazy about leaving either of them behind, but he understood Valentia’s reasons. They couldn’t just leave the manor empty while they were away, and Zuri’s photographic knowledge was mainly focused on Gloomwood Manor, not the capital. His manor would be in good hands while he was away, and its defenses (especially with his best flamethrower staying behind) remained formidable.
He also knew that for now he, Lydia, and Samuel would remain alone in this carriage. Valentia, Emily, and Nicole were all riding in the carriage behind this one. Anna would ride in the wagons with the cooks and other folks who would be handling matters on the road and at the private house he would be given at the capital. And the zarovians would walk.
Cresh, of course, was leading his vanguard. While he didn’t quite understand Valentia’s reasoning in packing the vast majority of their firepower into this convoy instead of leaving more of them to guard the manor, he also didn’t worry about it. He trusted Valentia had good reasons for the decisions she’d made, even if he didn’t understand them at the moment.
Sachi was out there somewhere too, probably already halfway through the forest and sniffing around with her super nose. He felt a lot better knowing his feral was out there ready to murderize anything that tried to sneak up on them. He hoped she’d come back once they made camp so she could give him some more practice with her bow.
Their rollout remained loud for some time, but soon, the carriage wheels and the horse hoof clopping settled into a steady and relaxing rhythm. Drake was aware of the carriage shifting ever so subtly like a ship on the sea, and he hoped it wouldn’t make him seasick. He’d always had a strong stomach, but this was his first carriage ride.
Somehow, Lydia picked up on his unspoken curiosity. “We will be on the main road out of the manor until almost dark, lord. It winds to slow our enemies, and neither these carriages nor our wagons do well with tight turns. If all goes well, we’ll exit the silverwood shortly before dusk, then make our first camp still in sight of the trees.”
“Day one finished,” Drake agreed. “And six more to go.” This was going to be an even longer trip than his trek back from Redbow territory, though at least he wouldn’t be walking. “Just wish I’d been able to bring my brand new crossbow.”
“Is that the strange weapon with the carved zarovian on the mouth?”
Drake perked up in delight. “Wait, you brought my crossbow?” He grinned wider. “Goktul finished the damn thing?”
“I only saw the servants loading an unusual crossbow I’d never seen before in one of the wagons. Does your new crossbow have four bolts placed around a rectangular barrel?”
Drake didn’t even bother to stop his jaw from dropping. “It loads four bolts? At the same time? Like... a revolver crossbow?”
If this weapon worked like it sounded it did, he was going to give Goktul a massive raise when he returned to the manor. He’d make sure that squat old zarovian could hammer things flat to his lizard heart’s content. He couldn’t wait to see that weapon... and to make sure he could pick it up and fire it without keeling over.
“It certainly was an impressive weapon,” Lydia agreed. “Though, I am curious as to the reasoning behind the zarovian on the muzzle. Is that to honor its smith?”
“It’s a dragon.”
“What’s a dragon?”
It was just so damn weird no one in this full-on fantasy world knew what a dragon was. “It’s a big, nasty, dangerous, fire-breathing monster from back in my world. A story, I mean.”
“I think I understand.” She leaned close and lowered her voice despite the fact that no one could possibly hear them in the carriage. “Those are lies you tell to entertain?”
He chuckled. “You could think about them that way. I was actually wondering about that a couple of days ago. Do you really not have fiction here?”
“We have stories, but our stories are about events that occurred.”
“So non-fiction.”
“I suppose so? Your realm sounds so strange I cannot be entirely certain.”
“It’s definitely non-fiction, Lydia. We do things a bit different where I’m from. Though... here’s a funny fact. A lot of our fiction probably matches closely with your non-fiction.”
“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow.”
“Me too. Hurts my head just thinking about it.” He shrugged. “Anyway... you’ve been to Korhaw...” He trailed off, then focused on the strange name. “Korhaurbauten?”
“I have, several times,” Lydia said. “I would not suggest you pronounce it that way.”
“I’ve got six more days to practice. I’ll manage. Now, what’s it like?”
“How to describe the capital? I suppose we could begin with large.”
“That tracks. It is your realm’s capital. And... hey, here’s another question. I know you have nine territories in your realm, each controlled by one of the nine manors, but are their countries beyond yours?”
She frowned. “Do you mean countryside?”
“No, it’s what we call... well, whatever your nine realms are, as a whole.”
“A land, lord.”
Drake snorted. “Okay, I should have guessed that one. So there are other lands?”
“We know of two. Both require a dangerous journey across the sea, and people only rarely travel between them. The kromians are an intensely territorial people, so only a few ships are allowed safe passage every year. They pay a heavy price in gold and treasure.”
Drake racked his brain for Zuri’s lessons. “Those are the mermaids, right?”
Lydia frowned. “They are a sea people, and they do not have maids.”
“How do you know? Ever been under the sea?”
“I have not, lord.” She still looked nonplussed. “But I do not think they have maids.”
“So not much contact with the other lands here?”
“We have ambassadors from those lands in the capital. And sometimes outsiders from other lands do come here to ours. And yes, so far as I understand, they have rarities just like we do, though they speak a different language and often follow different customs.”
“So you do have multiple languages here,” Drake said thoughtfully. “I wonder if I can speak those, too? Since I could speak your language the moment I arrived?”
Lydia eyed him. “You seem to have a lot of questions today, lord. I would like to answer, but you are moving so fast from topic to topic I wonder if you’ve eaten today.”
“Well, why shouldn’t I? I think this might be the first stretch of days where someone won’t be actively trying to kill me, and there’s so much I don’t know about this world. I can finally get a better grasp on this... land... beyond just how not to die in it.”
Lydia glanced to the front of the carriage. “I would not taunt the storm.”
“Is that how you say don’t jinx it?”
“I will only say that confidently stating that something won’t happen is often known to cause it to happen, especially if it’s something you don’t want to happen.”
“We’re on the same page,” Drake agreed. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
She looked ahead. “How have you been getting along with Nicole?”
Of course Lydia would ask how he was doing with gaining the loyalty of his people. As he caught her up on what little she’d missed after she took three crossbow bolts to the chest for him, he realized, as he relayed it, was an awful lot. He had missed Lydia’s counsel. And while she looked mildly annoyed Nicole had threatened him, he assured her it wasn’t a problem.
Afterward, Lydia answered the many and varied questions he peppered her with as they rolled onward. He asked questions he’d had for a while and many that only just occurred to him. It felt like remembering rather than learning, which was odd.
Not all of this should make sense to him. Not this quickly. But each new fact he learned and question Lydia answered firmed his view of this world... this realm... in a way that was frightening in its clarity. It was like trying on a pair of glasses after being nearsighted for years.
As they spoke the carriage rolled on and the day grew dark. Drake was surprised when the swaying and steady movement he’d grown almost entirely unaware of abruptly came to a halt. Shouts and orders sounded from outside as his people went about their business.
Lydia glanced at him. “I should go supervise the setup, lord.”
As she rose Drake grabbed her arm. “Hold up. One last question.”
She winced, but graciously. “Respectfully, I really must supervise the others.”
He’d worn her out today. He’d exhausted her with questions. He felt both guilty and amused by that, but mostly amused. Even if she’d been badly injured not long ago, he’d also spent a supercharged potion to get her fixed. Him learning things was good for the manor.
He released her arm and sat back. “Why did we bring all our most powerful people? I know there’s a good reason because Valentia doesn’t do anything without a good reason, but isn’t the manor in danger while we’re gone? I’m sure Olivia could burn up a whole platoon of enemy soldiers and the remaining zarovians would put up a good fight, but still. Do we need all this firepower?”
“I understand your question now, lord, and it is a good one. Once a cabal is called, all attacks against other manors are forbidden until two weeks after it has concluded. Any attack that occurs during that time will be investigated, not just by all nearby manors, but inquisitors from the noble court itself. Attacking a manor during a cabal is not an unforgivable crime, but it carries a steep price in treasure and ensures any lord involved will be censured.”
“And that’s bad.”
“Very bad, lord. While we are away, you need not worry about Gloomwood Manor. On the off chance the manor is attacked by bandits or other foolish individuals, Olivia alone could defeat them. With a few zarovians to aid her our manor is in very good hands, and do not forget that the silverwood also protects us. Not even an army can cut through it easily.”
Drake nodded. “And by comparison, your lord is walking into a den of mud vipers filled with all the other scheming manor lords and their most powerful living weapons. Makes sense. Thanks Lydia. Sorry to keep you.”
“It is fine, lord.” She smiled. “Now, for purposes of our security, I would like you to stay in the carriage until we have your tent ready. This carriage is built of silverwood and, while it may not look like it, has ferrocite reinforcement. No arrow, bolt, or even most magic can harm you while you’re inside. So please, let us set up your tent before you emerge.”
“Understood. POTUS will not leave the motorcade.”
She slipped out without a glance back. Once the door closed behind her, Drake noticed something that made him sit straight up in his seat. The dark eyes of the now heavily bearded man lying across from him were open. He looked more calm than tense.
“Samuel,” Drake said softly. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”
His previously dead butler’s placid expression did not change. Still, Drake sensed an undercurrent of wariness that struck him as different from that of his other blood thralls when they met him for the first time. Everyone except Cresh and Valentia had seemed tentative when they first met.
Samuel, by comparison, already seemed to be sizing him up for a fight.
Drake wondered if he should offer his hand or offer a nod. He settled on the latter and kept his gaze locked with his now not dead butler. Best to make things clear for both of them.
“I’m Lord Gloomwood now.”
“Are you,” Samuel said softly. His soft, throaty voice had a warmth to it that Drake suspected made him popular with the ladies. “That’s certainly not what I expected to hear.”
“I imagine not. But the other guy, the guy that did all that to you? I shanked him and tossed him on the poo pile. I imagine he looks about like you did when I found you.”
One of Samuel’s round, heavy fingers reached up to idly scratch his shaggy beard. He wasn’t a fat man, just large in general. More like a meaty wolf than a saggy bear. He rolled and wriggled until he was sitting mostly upright in his seat.
“Then, Lord Gloomwood, it seems you and I must speak.”
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Soon after, lots of shouting began outside, but it wasn’t the frantic kind. It was simply the kind of shouting people did when there were a bunch of them and they had six vehicles, a bunch of horses, and a bunch of people to organize. A whip cracked from directly ahead, and then Drake felt the whole carriage jerk into motion. Wheels clattered as hooves clopped.
He was riding. To a fantasy city. In a carriage. With a battle maid. For a moment, the sheer ridiculous novelty of this situation made him grin like an idiot, but he tamped that down hard. He didn’t want Lydia to think he’d suddenly gone insane.
From speaking with Olivia, he knew some of Valentia’s orders. Olivia would all be staying at the manor to lead Zuri and a skeleton crew. They’d handle daily upkeep and make sure it didn’t fall apart or get taken over. Olivia would manage the manor while Zuri would continue to manage matters in towns that swore loyalty to Lord Gloomwood.
Drake wasn’t crazy about leaving either of them behind, but he understood Valentia’s reasons. They couldn’t just leave the manor empty while they were away, and Zuri’s photographic knowledge was mainly focused on Gloomwood Manor, not the capital. His manor would be in good hands while he was away, and its defenses (especially with his best flamethrower staying behind) remained formidable.
He also knew that for now he, Lydia, and Samuel would remain alone in this carriage. Valentia, Emily, and Nicole were all riding in the carriage behind this one. Anna would ride in the wagons with the cooks and other folks who would be handling matters on the road and at the private house he would be given at the capital. And the zarovians would walk.
Cresh, of course, was leading his vanguard. While he didn’t quite understand Valentia’s reasoning in packing the vast majority of their firepower into this convoy instead of leaving more of them to guard the manor, he also didn’t worry about it. He trusted Valentia had good reasons for the decisions she’d made, even if he didn’t understand them at the moment.
Sachi was out there somewhere too, probably already halfway through the forest and sniffing around with her super nose. He felt a lot better knowing his feral was out there ready to murderize anything that tried to sneak up on them. He hoped she’d come back once they made camp so she could give him some more practice with her bow.
Their rollout remained loud for some time, but soon, the carriage wheels and the horse hoof clopping settled into a steady and relaxing rhythm. Drake was aware of the carriage shifting ever so subtly like a ship on the sea, and he hoped it wouldn’t make him seasick. He’d always had a strong stomach, but this was his first carriage ride.
Somehow, Lydia picked up on his unspoken curiosity. “We will be on the main road out of the manor until almost dark, lord. It winds to slow our enemies, and neither these carriages nor our wagons do well with tight turns. If all goes well, we’ll exit the silverwood shortly before dusk, then make our first camp still in sight of the trees.”
“Day one finished,” Drake agreed. “And six more to go.” This was going to be an even longer trip than his trek back from Redbow territory, though at least he wouldn’t be walking. “Just wish I’d been able to bring my brand new crossbow.”
“Is that the strange weapon with the carved zarovian on the mouth?”
Drake perked up in delight. “Wait, you brought my crossbow?” He grinned wider. “Goktul finished the damn thing?”
“I only saw the servants loading an unusual crossbow I’d never seen before in one of the wagons. Does your new crossbow have four bolts placed around a rectangular barrel?”
Drake didn’t even bother to stop his jaw from dropping. “It loads four bolts? At the same time? Like... a revolver crossbow?”
If this weapon worked like it sounded it did, he was going to give Goktul a massive raise when he returned to the manor. He’d make sure that squat old zarovian could hammer things flat to his lizard heart’s content. He couldn’t wait to see that weapon... and to make sure he could pick it up and fire it without keeling over.
“It certainly was an impressive weapon,” Lydia agreed. “Though, I am curious as to the reasoning behind the zarovian on the muzzle. Is that to honor its smith?”
“It’s a dragon.”
“What’s a dragon?”
It was just so damn weird no one in this full-on fantasy world knew what a dragon was. “It’s a big, nasty, dangerous, fire-breathing monster from back in my world. A story, I mean.”
“I think I understand.” She leaned close and lowered her voice despite the fact that no one could possibly hear them in the carriage. “Those are lies you tell to entertain?”
He chuckled. “You could think about them that way. I was actually wondering about that a couple of days ago. Do you really not have fiction here?”
“We have stories, but our stories are about events that occurred.”
“So non-fiction.”
“I suppose so? Your realm sounds so strange I cannot be entirely certain.”
“It’s definitely non-fiction, Lydia. We do things a bit different where I’m from. Though... here’s a funny fact. A lot of our fiction probably matches closely with your non-fiction.”
“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow.”
“Me too. Hurts my head just thinking about it.” He shrugged. “Anyway... you’ve been to Korhaw...” He trailed off, then focused on the strange name. “Korhaurbauten?”
“I have, several times,” Lydia said. “I would not suggest you pronounce it that way.”
“I’ve got six more days to practice. I’ll manage. Now, what’s it like?”
“How to describe the capital? I suppose we could begin with large.”
“That tracks. It is your realm’s capital. And... hey, here’s another question. I know you have nine territories in your realm, each controlled by one of the nine manors, but are their countries beyond yours?”
She frowned. “Do you mean countryside?”
“No, it’s what we call... well, whatever your nine realms are, as a whole.”
“A land, lord.”
Drake snorted. “Okay, I should have guessed that one. So there are other lands?”
“We know of two. Both require a dangerous journey across the sea, and people only rarely travel between them. The kromians are an intensely territorial people, so only a few ships are allowed safe passage every year. They pay a heavy price in gold and treasure.”
Drake racked his brain for Zuri’s lessons. “Those are the mermaids, right?”
Lydia frowned. “They are a sea people, and they do not have maids.”
“How do you know? Ever been under the sea?”
“I have not, lord.” She still looked nonplussed. “But I do not think they have maids.”
“So not much contact with the other lands here?”
“We have ambassadors from those lands in the capital. And sometimes outsiders from other lands do come here to ours. And yes, so far as I understand, they have rarities just like we do, though they speak a different language and often follow different customs.”
“So you do have multiple languages here,” Drake said thoughtfully. “I wonder if I can speak those, too? Since I could speak your language the moment I arrived?”
Lydia eyed him. “You seem to have a lot of questions today, lord. I would like to answer, but you are moving so fast from topic to topic I wonder if you’ve eaten today.”
“Well, why shouldn’t I? I think this might be the first stretch of days where someone won’t be actively trying to kill me, and there’s so much I don’t know about this world. I can finally get a better grasp on this... land... beyond just how not to die in it.”
Lydia glanced to the front of the carriage. “I would not taunt the storm.”
“Is that how you say don’t jinx it?”
“I will only say that confidently stating that something won’t happen is often known to cause it to happen, especially if it’s something you don’t want to happen.”
“We’re on the same page,” Drake agreed. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
She looked ahead. “How have you been getting along with Nicole?”
Of course Lydia would ask how he was doing with gaining the loyalty of his people. As he caught her up on what little she’d missed after she took three crossbow bolts to the chest for him, he realized, as he relayed it, was an awful lot. He had missed Lydia’s counsel. And while she looked mildly annoyed Nicole had threatened him, he assured her it wasn’t a problem.
Afterward, Lydia answered the many and varied questions he peppered her with as they rolled onward. He asked questions he’d had for a while and many that only just occurred to him. It felt like remembering rather than learning, which was odd.
Not all of this should make sense to him. Not this quickly. But each new fact he learned and question Lydia answered firmed his view of this world... this realm... in a way that was frightening in its clarity. It was like trying on a pair of glasses after being nearsighted for years.
As they spoke the carriage rolled on and the day grew dark. Drake was surprised when the swaying and steady movement he’d grown almost entirely unaware of abruptly came to a halt. Shouts and orders sounded from outside as his people went about their business.
Lydia glanced at him. “I should go supervise the setup, lord.”
As she rose Drake grabbed her arm. “Hold up. One last question.”
She winced, but graciously. “Respectfully, I really must supervise the others.”
He’d worn her out today. He’d exhausted her with questions. He felt both guilty and amused by that, but mostly amused. Even if she’d been badly injured not long ago, he’d also spent a supercharged potion to get her fixed. Him learning things was good for the manor.
He released her arm and sat back. “Why did we bring all our most powerful people? I know there’s a good reason because Valentia doesn’t do anything without a good reason, but isn’t the manor in danger while we’re gone? I’m sure Olivia could burn up a whole platoon of enemy soldiers and the remaining zarovians would put up a good fight, but still. Do we need all this firepower?”
“I understand your question now, lord, and it is a good one. Once a cabal is called, all attacks against other manors are forbidden until two weeks after it has concluded. Any attack that occurs during that time will be investigated, not just by all nearby manors, but inquisitors from the noble court itself. Attacking a manor during a cabal is not an unforgivable crime, but it carries a steep price in treasure and ensures any lord involved will be censured.”
“And that’s bad.”
“Very bad, lord. While we are away, you need not worry about Gloomwood Manor. On the off chance the manor is attacked by bandits or other foolish individuals, Olivia alone could defeat them. With a few zarovians to aid her our manor is in very good hands, and do not forget that the silverwood also protects us. Not even an army can cut through it easily.”
Drake nodded. “And by comparison, your lord is walking into a den of mud vipers filled with all the other scheming manor lords and their most powerful living weapons. Makes sense. Thanks Lydia. Sorry to keep you.”
“It is fine, lord.” She smiled. “Now, for purposes of our security, I would like you to stay in the carriage until we have your tent ready. This carriage is built of silverwood and, while it may not look like it, has ferrocite reinforcement. No arrow, bolt, or even most magic can harm you while you’re inside. So please, let us set up your tent before you emerge.”
“Understood. POTUS will not leave the motorcade.”
She slipped out without a glance back. Once the door closed behind her, Drake noticed something that made him sit straight up in his seat. The dark eyes of the now heavily bearded man lying across from him were open. He looked more calm than tense.
“Samuel,” Drake said softly. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”
His previously dead butler’s placid expression did not change. Still, Drake sensed an undercurrent of wariness that struck him as different from that of his other blood thralls when they met him for the first time. Everyone except Cresh and Valentia had seemed tentative when they first met.
Samuel, by comparison, already seemed to be sizing him up for a fight.
Drake wondered if he should offer his hand or offer a nod. He settled on the latter and kept his gaze locked with his now not dead butler. Best to make things clear for both of them.
“I’m Lord Gloomwood now.”
“Are you,” Samuel said softly. His soft, throaty voice had a warmth to it that Drake suspected made him popular with the ladies. “That’s certainly not what I expected to hear.”
“I imagine not. But the other guy, the guy that did all that to you? I shanked him and tossed him on the poo pile. I imagine he looks about like you did when I found you.”
One of Samuel’s round, heavy fingers reached up to idly scratch his shaggy beard. He wasn’t a fat man, just large in general. More like a meaty wolf than a saggy bear. He rolled and wriggled until he was sitting mostly upright in his seat.
“Then, Lord Gloomwood, it seems you and I must speak.”
Next Week: Drake updates an old decree, awards a gold star, and gets a present.
Have a great weekend, folks!
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