Birthright: Act 5, Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Upon the highway leading west from the city of E-Rantel, three carriages sped through the forests and fields of Jezne County. Alongside them rode twelve mounted footmen: two to the side of each carriage, four leading the front and two bringing up the rear. The footmen were divided into three sets of livery for the three houses that they represented. In the middle carriage together rode the heads of those houses – plus one other.

To a traveller on the wayside, their swift passage over the rough pavement would fill the air with a great clamour, but not a trace of this sound could be heard within. These were the most luxurious coaches in House Wagner's fleet of vehicles: masterfully engineered and magically enchanted to provide a comfortable journey that might only be surpassed by the state coaches of great nations.

Slowly turning a delicate-looking white mask in her hands, Ludmila absently gazed out of the window at the scenery of carefully-managed forests lining the highway.

“It’s a rare thing to see you spaced out like that,” Clara’s voice came from beside her. “Did your audience with Lady Shalltear really give you that much to think about?”

Ludmila had not mentioned anything about the previous night’s meeting with her liege, beyond the fact that she had spoken with her at length. Still dazed over what had come to pass, she herself could still scarcely believe that the dream-like event had occurred.

“Lady Shalltear ratified my oath of fealty,” she replied. “A part of it, at least.”

“That’s wonderful news, then!” Clara pressed her palms together with a pleased expression for her friend, “You’ve been agonizing over it for weeks, haven’t you?”

Ludmila nodded slightly. It was something that had been quietly eating away at her, as more and more of the nobility had done so and resumed their regular lives. A noble’s contract with their liege was the basis of aristocratic society, and not having one was akin to being left alone and vulnerable to the myriad dangers of the world, cast adrift with no purpose or direction. Ludmila could not even figure out how she would compose her own: she was a Frontier Noble whose traditional duties were rendered unnecessary by the powerful Undead armies of the Sorcerous Kingdom. Her underdeveloped fief was overshadowed hundreds of times over by the wealth and influence of even the poorest of the inner territories, so she could offer little on that front as well.

The audience that she had requested in order to consult with her liege over the dilemma in Fassett County and had, instead, ended up in her formally swearing herself to Lady Shalltear’s service. It was a sudden turn of events that may as well have been spun from a minstrel’s tale. Well, she guessed that no minstrel would ever actually use something like this. It was not on a battlefield after some legendary feat of martial prowess, nor in a grand ceremony witnessed by a vast court, but on the floor of the solar of her borrowed city manor in the middle of the night.

Ludmila had pledged to follow after Lady Shalltear in her duty: to be a defender of the realm, and uphold His Majesty’s desired order. A solemn oath, sealed by her lady’s kiss. The act itself was something she recognized as being very out of character for her organized and formal self – it wasn’t even on paper – but it felt so right that she could not even think to cross-examine it. It was something that she would not forget for the rest of her life: a private and personal moment that had been etched into her being.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Clara lean towards her with a furrow on her brow. Clara exchanged glances with Liane and Florine seated across from them. They shrugged and shook their heads in return.

“If that’s what is supposed to happen,” Countess Corelyn said, “I think I want a redo of my contract. All I received was a stamped document from the Royal Court, delivered to my letterbox. Ludmila looks positively lovestruck.”

The light laughter that followed pulled Ludmila out of her daze, and she turned her head towards the others. Seeing her friend was back again, Clara spoke.

“So…what is it that has your head in the clouds, exactly? Even if I was offered tax immunity I don’t think I’d have that look on my face. Well, maybe.”

“Duty,” Ludmila answered.

“Duty?” Clara made a face at the decidedly unexciting answer, “What sort of duty?”

“It is…difficult to explain,” Ludmila said. “I’m not wholly certain as to the extent of it, but I think I can do something about House Fassett.”

“Eh? Really?” Florine said, “But Lady Shalltear is the Minister of Transportation, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Liane nodded. “This isn’t something the Minister of Transportation should have jurisdiction over, should she?”

“It shouldn’t be.” Clara agreed, “Unless what is happening in Fassett County is interfering with the roads…”

“Lady Shalltear is not just the Minister of Transportation.”

The three other women leaned away from her ardour. Ludmila cleared her throat, and adjusted her tone.

“She also continues to uphold her duties from before E-Rantel’s annexation,” she told them. “She is a Defender of the Realm, an enemy of all who would oppose His Majesty’s order. The first part of my oath of fealty was to assist her and carry out this same duty, to the furthest extent of my ability.”

“Then you’ve essentially resumed your duties as a Frontier Noble?” Clara ventured, “The terms sound fairly similar.”

“On a very basic level, there are similarities,” Ludmila answered. “But there is so much more now. It will take me some time to learn and understand its intricacies.”

Or rather, she wasn’t sure if there were any intricacies. It was authority in the absolute sense: raw, unyielding power. Opposition to His Majesty’s will was unacceptable; defiance, an unforgivable sin. She was now the agent of an order above any and all laws, traditions or practices that would impede her in the pursuit of her quarry. It didn’t mean that she could flagrantly ignore the laws of the Sorcerous Kingdom, and there were other aspects of His Majesty’s will to be observed, but it did have the effect of cutting through red tape, political posturing and legal pretense.

Ludmila had always welcomed duty; embraced it…but now, for the first time, duty sent a chill through her being. The members of the King’s Cabinet all held this authority – Lady Aura and Lord Mare included, and any servant of His Majesty could be called upon for aid. She wondered how one conducted themselves in regards to this duty: there were certainly no known incidents that she could construe were a result of its exercise, so there must be more that she was missing. Perhaps, rather than a brute force, it was something better wielded with quiet precision.

A shadow appeared over the window, turning their attention to one of Clara’s footmen who had maneuvered his horse alongside them. Ludmila opened the crystal pane, and the roar of the sounds outdoors filled the cabin.

“Lady Corelyn,” the footman said over the din, “the maids would like to stop and deliver lunch.”

“That sounds good,” Clara replied, leaning over Ludmila to speak to him, “I’m starting to feel peckish. We’ll stop to have lunch delivered, but we won’t be stopping while we dine. You may keep the pace down until everyone has settled their meals.”

“It will be done, my lady.”

The young man guided his horse away and Ludmila closed the window. All of the footmen escorting them seemed to be well-trained and experienced members of their respective households. Beyond their domestic training, they appeared to be proficient in horsemanship and the weapons that they carried as well.

After the entourage rolled to a stop on the side of the road, Ludmila left the carriage to stretch her tired body. Her mind was still restless from the previous night, but she was beginning to physically tire from not having slept at all. Attempting to distract her attention away from her fatigue, she turned to a nearby footman.

“How far have we come?” She asked.

“We’re just leaving Jezne County, Lady Camilla,” he responded cordially. “Once we’re through the next town, we’ll be past most of the traffic delivering goods to and from E-Rantel. We should be able to pick up speed then.”

Unlike the cultivated fields and pastures of the northeast and the fertile valleys to the south of the city, a large portion of the western half of the duchy was dominated by forested limestone hills which occupied the gap between the the Azerlisia Mountains to the north and the border ranges to the south. The highway followed a lightly winding path which passed the occasional patches of farmland nestled between tall stands of trees. Far to the west, she thought she could see the buildings of the town that the footman mentioned peeking out from behind the rolling landscape.

Several maids carrying trays of food walked past her while another footman was setting up a solid oak table across the middle of the coach. When it appeared that preparations were completed, she stepped back up into the carriage, joined by the other noblewomen. The procession carried on, albeit much more slowly, as the drivers and escorts took turns having their meal.

Inside their carriage, Ludmila was presented with a warm, sumptuous feast. Lady Wagner had spared no expense on her part, providing the best experience she could offer. Magical items that kept their food fresh and heated and enchanted decanters of ice cold wine accompanied their meal. Various other conveniences all combined to make the journey seem more like a relaxing afternoon in a garden rather than a hard drive across the countryside. Even the horses were afforded magical items: enchanted harnesses and bridles which allowed them to run in comfort, their blistering pace sustained by magical horseshoes created in some Demihuman nation far to the east.

Amongst all of the other luxurious offerings, there was something else that caught the nobles’ attention.

“I can’t believe you brought that thing with you, Liane,” Florine said as they set into their meal.

“Why not? It’s a memento of my lord father,” Liane replied, “and a bit of inspiration, no?”

The subject of their exchange was a delicately crafted piece of glasswork which had been fashioned into the shape of a wine glass. It shimmered and gleamed in the light of the sun streaming through the carriage window, and its enchanting appearance inextricably drew the eye of any observer. Ludmila immediately realized that it was enchanted, and beneath the minor illusion was a rather plain looking item.

“What is it?” Ludmila asked.

“Oh, I guess you weren’t there for that, being out on the border and all,” Liane said, reaching out to lift the item. “It was a rather amusing topic for a few weeks after it happened.”

“You mean that’s…” Clara’s voice trailed off as Liane grew excited at her recognition.

“Yes, this is it!” Liane held up the glass to Ludmila, “How much do you think this is worth?”

“Liane!” Clara said, “I don’t think that’s a fair question…”

“Including the cost of the enchantment?” Ludmila tried to stall for time to think, having no idea how much it was worth.

“Cheh,” Liane pulled back, disappointed. “So even Frontier Nobles can tell.”

“What is the story behind it?” Ludmila was curious, and she put a slice of steak in her mouth as she listened to the younger noblewoman.

“Hmm…yes, I guess that’s the more important part of this,” Liane brightened again. “Back some months ago, a merchant came by our manor, offering to sell this to our house. So my lord father instructed the butler to let him in and listened to his entire offer. I forgot exactly what it was…something about some master artisan, and he was willing to part with it for a mere fifteen gold trade coins. Anyways…what did you think happened?”

Ludmila’s chewing slowed. She still had no idea what the piece of glasswork was worth, so she simply shook her head to prompt Lady Wagner to continue her story.

“He paid him!” Liane grinned wickedly, “And then he had four of the footmen run him through the streets with whips – all the way from the central district to the crossroads south of E-Rantel. That fool thought he could deceive a noble with such a cheap article.”

Liane took a sip out of her glass before resuming her tale.

“That isn’t the end of the story, though,” Liane leaned forward with a gleam in her ice-blue eyes, lowering her voice. “We tracked down the man’s wagon and found a crate full of identical items; the most astonishing thing was that there were a few missing. These are worth two silver, thirteen copper – including the cost of the enchantment. We could only assume that someone out there fell for the man’s ridiculous ploy. After uncovering this, father declared that this piece was well worth the asking price, simply for the lesson that it holds: that there are some heedless fools out there that think they can actually cheat us, and that there actually exist idiots out there that can fall for such schemes.”

Ludmila looked around the table. Clara and Florine had amused expressions after Liane’s finished her tale. Ludmila could only hope that she would never fall for any similar ruse.

They completed lunch, and the plates and glasses were replaced by documents, reference manuals and paperwork. Despite serving as emissaries of the House of Lords, each of them had varying amounts of work to complete before the formal announcement concerning the Empire. Liane, especially, seemed to be particularly swamped, expanding House Wagner’s merchant companies and setting up new ones – her own work was invading Florine’s part of the table. Luckily, Florine had relatively little to do, coming from a quiet agricultural fief mostly away from the main highways with no specific preparations that needed to be made.

“So about your new duties, Ludmila,” Clara asked without looking up from her work. “What do you think you’ll be able to do?”

“It would depend on the extent of House Fassett’s activities,” she answered. “Hopefully they will resolve matters surrounding their succession and commit to stepping down from their illicit behaviour.”

“The chance of that happening is slim to none,” Clara said. “You were there when we discussed that, I believe. Each side of the dispute is using the resources from those illicit activities in order to fund the support for their claims. Count Völkchenheim’s olive branch might seem an attractive proposal at a glance but, in the end, it does not break the succession crisis since they should be smart enough to either both refuse or both accept. I am loath to offer Völkchenheim’s proposal in the first place since it potentially implicates the entire House of Lords if twisted the wrong way.”

“Do you really think the final outcome will be that bad though?” Ludmila asked.

Even roughly understanding what she now had the authority to do, Ludmila decided that some things should only be done as a last resort. The more she thought it through, though, the more it seemed that the last resort was the only option.

That option was to remove both parties before they drew the scrutiny of the Royal Court – that was, unseating House Fassett and the other ringleaders in the dispute. Lady Shalltear asserted that those who supported changing the laws might be unhappy that their excuse was denied them, but the restoration of order with a clear message would be accepted as a just outcome and they would not waste resources pursuing an otherwise trifling matter.

“We don’t know,” Clara said after looking to the others. “Like you, most of our dealings with the Royal Court have been generally positive, so we haven’t ever witnessed what they are capable of doing if something displeases them. Personally I don’t want to find out, so if there is anything we can do to help you, that may be the most reliable course to avoid an undesirable outcome.”

“We don’t have our own masks though,” Florine said.

“Why a mask, anyways?” Liane asked.

“And why Camilla?” Clara added, “For the life of me I still cannot figure that one out.”

One of the first things Ludmila had done was spell out the name in various written languages. As with Nonna, it was Theocracy script that turned up a meaning. A name as ancient as the Theocracy itself: meaning ‘Acolyte’, or perhaps ‘Disciple’. Clara should have picked up on its meaning, but she probably associated it with the priesthood. Given that Ludmila was essentially under the mentorship of Lady Shalltear in the ways of the Sorcerer King’s vassals, she found it gratifying that her liege would treat her with such regard.

As for the mask, Ludmila had no idea. She had received the mask and the name from Lady Shalltear, who insisted that she should use both. She picked up the smooth, bone-white adornment from the table and held it in front of her face.

“Well,” she said from behind the item, “how does it look?”

“Suspicious,” Clara said without hesitation.

“Weird,” said Florine.

“Creepy,” said Liane.

Ludmila sighed.