Luther's Pride Part 21

“Perhaps I could inform the guests about the manor's history while we tour?” Criella asked, leading the crowd of people out of the dining hall and into the hallway.

Luther nodded, and he and the guests turned their collective attention to Criella. The massive hallway still struggled to contain them all, but the paintings on the wall depicting the empire’s history caught the attention.

“The late lord Le Fey, Cerebrion, was a studious man.” Criella began. “Dedicated to the collection and study of the written word. When he came to the valley, he and his wife Signe had very little but gold to their names.”

Luther’s eyes turned to Criella, but she did not hold his gaze as she told the story. She turned her attention between the guests, making and breaking eye contact as she pleased.

“The lord of Raefendale at the time was content to rent them a cottage, but seeking a larger, less burnable structure, Cerebrion bargained for the old stone watchtower by the valley pass. He and Signe settled, and life was good for them. Cerebrion grew his library while Signe planted their crops.”

Luther realized now what she was doing. Yes, she was giving the history of the house, but she was also presenting Luther's story to the guests—his beginning.

“Then, Signe gave birth to baby Luther.” Criella continued. “Sadly, she passed during his birth, but Cerebrion raised Luther, taking on the role of all parents alone.” Criella paused as the guests absorbed the news. Helena took Luther’s hand in hers as they walked.

The loss of his mother wasn’t a wound exactly but a standard state of his world. He’d never known or had what others assumed he missed. Did he wish he had the same experiences others did, with a large amount of parents to look up to and learn from? Of course, but there was no changing the past.

“Over the years, Luther grew, and so did Cerebrion’s influence, library, and wealth. His investments in the valley returned profits, and when Luther was still young, the local lord of the valley became greedy. Seeking to add Cerebrion’s wealth to his purse, he challenged Cerebrion.”

Criella paused, gauging the expressions of the gathered guests. They listened to her tale with interest, despite some of them already knowing the facts of the tale. Many had known the former lord and his greed, some quite close.

The practice of the challenge was sometimes used to take what otherwise might be considered stealing. It wasn’t what the process was for, but it was still done. In that instance, a married lord with wealth and strength of his own challenging a lone individual would have been considered uncouth, vulgar even.

“You can say Lord Verdell.” Bertilak spoke up. “I am fully aware of my father’s vile nature and would be the first in line to curse his name.”

Criella nodded. “Lord Verdell issued his challenge, and Cerebrion attempted to dissuade him, but accepted when the Lord refused to withdraw his challenge.”

She gestured to a portrait hanging in the hallway as they walked toward the branch of the East and West wings. The dark wood frame encapsulated a standing fey man with handsome features. His salt and pepper hair bore silver streaks at his temples, making him appear distinguished. A young Luther stood beside and slightly in front of the older man, coming up to his chest at the time. Luther’s young features looked wild and unkempt as if he’d been a barbarian dragged into the portrait standing.

He remembered standing for the portrait and hating every moment, waiting for the signal that he was free to resume his adventures in the yard with Criella. The slightly dragon-shaped boulder in the forest needed defeating, after all, and there were trees that needed climbing.

Helena squeezed Luther’s hand gently, and he realized he’d held back from the others, staring at the portrait as the crowd had moved on. He smiled, apologetic, and he, Helena, and Jowangshin caught up to the tail end as the party turned into the East wing, the windows on their left showing the front lawns, and the rooms on their right open to see parlors, living areas, studios, music chambers, and other exhibits of arts.

“As some of you already know, the challenge was over swiftly.” Criella continued her tale. “Despite his reluctance, Cerebrion’s fey nature and his magical prowess determined his victory. He was a skilled fey warrior and mage, while Lord Verdell’s union had gone unchallenged for a long time due to its size, and they had grown too complacent. Within minutes, Lord Verdell and his spouses were dead, and those who’d come to witness the spectacle were enraged by how swiftly and decisively he claimed victory.”

Criella gestured to another portrait on the wall. This one showed a small crowd in profile, showing rage against a single fey man standing with his sword drawn against the horde.

“I saw that fight.” Bertilak said. “It was brutal.”

Some eyes turned to Luther.

“My father refused to allow me to attend.” Luther said. “I was young, and while he knew I would have to one day fight such battles, he hoped to hold off the practical demonstrations for as long as possible. Reading about them was enough, in his mind.”

“Every parent wishes their child to remain a child.” Regina, Helena’s mother, said softly. “For as long as possible, anyway.”

Luther nodded. “My father was no different, especially since the children remain children for centuries, not years, in his culture.”

Lucas sneered, but the step of his sister’s heel on his toes made him flatten the curl of his lip.

“After taking the lordship of the valley by conquest, as is the law, Lord Cerebrion saw to its business more efficiently than the lord before him. His business acumen and sharp mind grew the valley’s wealth, and his mining efforts in the mountains provided new raw materials, more job opportunities, and economy. The population of the shire boomed, and people came from all over to share in our prosperity.”

Criella led them out of the wing and into a courtyard garden with a small pond in its center. The small bench beside the water looked peaceful. The sun above them reflected shimmering sparks on the pond surface, which struck the windows surrounding them.

“This was his lordship’s favorite meditation spot.” Criella said. “He came here daily to focus himself on the daily tasks of managing his business.”

The tour continued, and Criella led them into the southern section of the house. She showed them the kitchens, the entrance to the servant’s quarters, the gardens, the ‘business wing,’ which mainly contained offices, and the ‘sleeping wing,’ which included the apartments. She showed them an empty one, not going so far as to show them Luther’s personal sleeping quarters or the bedroom Cerebrion had occupied.

Finally, they came to the library, a wing of the house dedicated to the storage and preservation of the written word. Criella opened the large double doors and pushed inside.

Gasps escaped from some of the people around them, but to Luther, this library was not the most impressive feature.

“I think the university is the only library I’ve seen that compares to this.” Luther said. “My father was dedicated.”

“It’s impressive.” Bertilak said, nodding.

“I can’t imagine how much it must have cost to acquire these manuscripts.” Petros said, craning his neck to see the upper shelves on the second-story balcony.

“Many are copies.” Luther said. “My father has many originals in his library, of course, but when he was unable to acquire originals, he purchased copied texts. His investment in the library was not in the value of originals but in the knowledge they contained.”

Luther’s eyes shifted to Emily, and he watched as she wandered through the shelves. The crowd dispersed, each group splintering to investigate the titles and tomes on the shelves.

He couldn’t help but think that his father would have hated this. He believed in sharing knowledge, but the chaos of multiple people pulling books from the shelves, reading a few words, and potentially placing them back in the wrong place or order would have made his father bristle.

Criella must have had the same thought. She met Luther’s eyes and smiled, the two of them sharing the imagined scenario with good-natured mirth tinged with the sadness that it was only imagined. Simultaneously, their gazes drifted to the table between them, the one they’d made love on days ago. Luther returned his gaze to Criella, but Criella looked away, not looking at him or his new wives, as she turned her attention to Lucas.

“Your father kept journals?” Lucas asked, holding one leatherbound journal aloft.

“He did.” Luther said. “He considered himself something of an academic.”

“More than ‘something of,’ if this collection is anything to judge by.” Petros said, still impressed as he climbed the stairs to the second-story balcony.

“It’s even larger than I’d imagined.” Emily said, running her fingertip along the spines of a row of books. “I could spend ages here, reading every night, and never finish the library before I died of old age.”

Luther nodded. “My father didn’t have that problem.”

“Or so he thought.” Lucas placed the journal back on the shelf with a sly smile.

Many eyes turned to Lucas, who met them with a confident smirk and an unashamed gaze. He thought his remark clever, and if it wounded, it was cleverer still.

Luther sighed, rolling his eyes and turning his attention to Jowangshin, who had drifted between the shelves to find some written works on religious texts. “He has a copy of the Epic of History.” Jo said, holding a massive tome in her hands. “Our copy at the temple isn’t even complete. He has all five parts.”

Luther nodded. “He was an adamant collector. However, we could arrange for the temple to receive a copy of the complete set.”

Jo’s eyes flared. “Really? That would be a handsome gift!”

“Well, it’s yours to give. The library is ours, after all.” Luther said, smiling slightly as realization dawned on Jo’s face.

After all, this was no longer Cerebrion’s library; it was Luther’s, and now that she was married to him, it was hers. Helena shared a portion as well, but her interest was in other things, and she certainly had no desire to read the religious texts that so captivated Jowangshin. A pictographic book on the high forms of fey swordsmanship had captured Helena’s attention, and she turned the pages with all the reverence Jo reserved for her ritual songs.

Eira and Rhosyn walked through the shelves hand-in-hand, taking in the sights more than the spines. The pair seemed content to wander and peruse without touching anything, which Luther thought was considerate on their part.

“Does anyone wish to continue our tour outside?” Criella asked. “I could show you the stables and the gardens, though you’ve likely already seen most of those. There’s not much to see as far as the rest of the grounds are concerned. Fields, crops, and other elements of that sort always look the same.”

Branan came beside Luther, nodding to him as he stood there. His spouses had already split up, perusing the shelves at their leisure.

“I hope you know I had every bit of respect for your father.” Branan said. “And I am sorry for his death. Losing him was a loss to the entire valley.”

Luther nodded his gratitude for the sentiment. “I have a large shadow to fill, as far as his intelligence and wisdom in guiding the shire are concerned.”

“Indeed.” Branan said, nodding. “And, if you don’t mind my saying, I would much rather help you in that endeavor than take it from you. You are handsome, and your wives are beautiful. We needn’t be enemies.”

Luther smiled softly. “I… appreciate that.” Luther said. “We could, of course, always work together without joining our unions. The way you and my father did.”

Branan frowned and eyed the shelves around them. “I believed in your father’s ability to do his duty and protect this valley.” He said. “Raefendale needs a strong, capable lord, if not strong on his own, then strengthened by his union to wise and capable mages like himself.”

The unspoken words told Luther what he needed to know. Branan’s healthy respect for Luther’s father was born from witnessing his might. That respect ended with Cerebrion and did not extend to Luther. Luther would have to win his respect through similar demonstrations, union, or answering the challenge Branan was impatient to issue.

“I appreciate your suggestion.” Luther said. “I will… discuss the matter with my union.”

Branan could not counter that suggestion. Luther, after all, could not make such a decision on his own when he was bound to two others who might reject Branan or any of his spouses for one reason or another. Still, even Luther had to admit that despite his lack of attraction to men, a union with Branan was a politically intelligent maneuver. It might cost him his happiness and tie his soul to someone he could never love, but if that was the cost of duty? Of survival? He did not know if he could bring himself to pay it.

Branan nodded his acceptance and rejoined his spouse by the table as Helena rejoined Luther.

She kissed his cheek, which made him smile, and the world seemed more pleasant as Jowangshin pulled his arm over her shoulders and leaned against him on his other side.

Eira and Rhosyn approached from ahead, and the trio looked at the pair with their eyebrows raised.

“Don’t entertain his suggestion.” Eira said, speaking directly to Luther. “He is… not a good man. Nor are his partners.”

“You, however, have a good soul. Despite the blood on your hands.” Rhosyn continued.

“If you still wish to marry us,” they said together, “let us be wed here this afternoon.”

Jo, Helena, and Luther looked between us.

“But it is a choice.” They said. “We will not marry them.”

“Well, that makes the choice for us, then. I think we have already accepted your proposal. Or, you’ve accepted ours.” Luther glanced between them. “Either way, I’m not a man to retreat from my promises. Shall we summon the priest?”

“Summon him.” They said.

Luther nodded, and Jowangshin left his side, giving instructions to Wulfric, who stood by the door.