Luther's Pride - Part 19

Fresh-faced, bathed, and wearing refined but simple day clothes, the three newlyweds descended the main stair at the house to the smiles and light applause of their gathered guests. Hel’s family stood aside, and her mother latched onto her arm as soon as Helena’s foot touched the bottom stair. She broke off from Jo and Luther as she and her mother whispered, walking behind the rest.

No one wondered what they discussed. The nosey woman’s girlish giggles at Helena’s answer were all the clues anyone needed. If any lingering doubts remained, their furtive glances at Jo and Luther cast them aside.

The others wore daily wear as well, the grand elegance of last night’s party replaced by the return to routine. Petros and Lionel wore their uniforms still, but without the finery and decorations required for formal occasions. Regina’s dress was simpler and less exploitative of her assets than the low-cut dress from the evening.

The Grey family, Septimus, Colin, Archibald, and their daughter Holly, wore rougher clothes as well that bared their arms, showing off their stylized tattoos in matching blue ink. The tribal patterns depicting animals matched in style, but closer examination revealed the animals were unique to the individual, with some crossover between them, but never in the same place.

Emily Burville looked breathtaking in her simpler finery, with a dress perfect for a dinner party. Her brother’s absence left her without an escort to breakfast, but she stood proud and walked tall.

The sheer number of the Verdell family walking behind her exaggerated her loneliness. Bertilak wore a simple green tunic and buckskin leather trousers. Demira, Avery, and Primrose walked beside him with their arms linked. Behind them, Eira and Rhosyn walked, watching the procession before them as if they knew something the others didn’t.

Luther and Jo led the procession, and together, they strode into the dining hall, where a feast of eggs, pork sausages, bacon, pastries, and fruits awaited. The servants busied themselves, filling glasses with water, coffee, and tea to the order of their guests. Luther took his place at the head of the table, with Jo on his right and Helena on his left by their choices. Helena’s mother sat beside her and the rest of her family. Emily Burville sat at the foot of the table, on her own, between the Verdell twins on either side.

“I hear you were up and out early this morning, training?” Bertilak asked as he looked at Luther. “Strange thing for a newlywed to do after such a late night.”

Luther laughed, his laughter small and polite.

“I think it’s industrious.” Demira said. “A lord should put his might before all else.”

“Well, of course.” Bertilak agreed. “But gods above! There’s an hour for everything. Even sleeping in.”

The guests laughed, except the twins.

“We need ten more seats.” Eira said, looking at Luther from the far end of the table.

“Ten more?” Luther asked, raising an eyebrow. “I know I drank wine in celebration last night, but I can’t have been so drunk to have forgotten an entire family of guests, could I?”

His guests laughed.

“I’ll let Wulfric tell you.” Eira said, rolling her eyes in tandem with Rhosyn, who mirrored her expression.

Luther looked at the nearest servant, but they remained stalwart and unflinching. Wulfric didn’t burst through the doors, so the guests returned to their meals, and murmurs of Eira’s eccentricities became a topic of hushed conversation out of her family’s earshot.

Luther watched the pair of them with curiosity. Eira and Rhosyn were young, just turned twenty, but beautiful. Their slender necks and narrow shoulders showed skin as pale as the moons and smooth as pearls. Thick, silky hair as black as starless night cascaded from their heads in the same style. Silver jewelry matched each other, with sapphire stones in their matching necklace and rings. Their pointed chins, high cheekbones, and round eyes were symmetrical to themselves and each other. Pale blue-gray eyes stared wherever they looked and unnerved anyone they turned their gaze toward.

The only way to tell them apart that Luther could discern was their clothing. Eira wore a red dress with shoulderless sleeves connected to the torso beneath her arms and corseted with a leather corset above her skirt. Rhosyn wore a white dress and no corset unless it hid within the bodice.

Their long-limbed and slender builds sported curves that spoke of elegance over volume, and their agile, graceful movements were always precise. They never misstepped or fumbled.

Beside them, Emily Burville looked dark and clumsy, though she was neither.

“Pardon me, sir.” Wulfric’s voice behind Luther startled him, but he turned to see the older man leaning forward from behind his chair. “You have unexpected guests at the gate. Should I send them away?”

“Who is it?” Luther asked, curious more than concerned.

Wulfric glanced at Helena, who was on his other side, then spoke quietly, a whisper into Luther’s ear. “Branan is here, my lord. He has his spouses with him and Lucas Burville, who claims he is here to collect his sister.”

“Show Branan to the lounge.” Luther said. “As for Mister Burville, I daresay it’s up to Emily whether to admit him. Ask her what she prefers.”

“As you wish, sir.” Wulfric said. His tone expressed his low opinion of those orders’ wisdom, but he obeyed his employer. He next appeared behind Emily’s chair, and Luther and the guests saw the two of them conferring while polite conversation drowned out what they were saying.

“I wonder why Branan is here.” Luther sighed, alerting Helena and Jo to the visitation.

Helena and Jo looked at each other, then at Luther in confusion. “I thought we had another day.”

“We do.” Luther said. “He must be here for another reason.”

“Should we excuse ourselves?” Helena asked. “Go and see?”

“No.” Luther said. “We have guests. Wulfric will show them hospitality until after breakfast. Then we can discuss whatever the issue is with Branan.”

Jo and Helena nodded, agreeing to the plan without another word. The three of them appeared relaxed, but they ate more quickly than their guests. Their hurry, however, was unwarranted. The dining room doors opened, and the noise of Wulfric’s protest followed behind them.

“Is it true?” Branan’s voice thundered from the open door. He and his seven spouses moved past Wulfric without acknowledgment, to the outrage of several of the guests, who jumped to their feet as if they were under attack.

“Is it true?” Branan repeated as the bearded older man approached Luther along the table. Petros rose and pressed his hand against Branan’s chest, bracing him in place without effort on Petros’ part.

“Is what true?” Petros asked. “The nuptials?”

“No, not that.” Branan waved him off and attempted to push forward, but Petros’ arm didn’t budge, his hand flat against Branan’s sternum. “This!” He waved a broadsheet in Petros’ face and slammed it into his chest. Petros looked undisturbed, but he took the paper and read it. He glanced at Luther, then back at the page.

“Is it true?” Branan asked again.

“Someone pass me the broadsheet or tell me what it says, if you please?” Luther asked.

Petros passed it, and Helena skimmed it before passing it to Luther, who read the spot she indicated.

Their marriage announcement. Two of them, one above and below the other. His and Helena’s announcement was first, followed by his and Jo’s. Each bore the information announcing the unions, their names, families, and their arcanum.

Helena Cerul

Daughter of Petros, Lionel, and Regina Cerul

Bearing an arcanum of Personal Kinetics

Has united herself to:

Lord Luther Le Fey

Son of Cerebrion and Signe Le Fey

Bearing an arcanum unknown

Luther reread the broadsheet, then turned to Wulfric as the older man arrived at his side to take the offending paper away. “The announcements ran in today’s Broadsheet?”

“Yes, sir.” Wulfric nodded.

“Good.” Luther nodded. “That was faster than I expected, but it’s good people know. It might give them a reason to celebrate, even so soon after my father’s death.”

“Yes, sir.” Wulfric said, stepping away.

“You don’t know your arcanum?” Branan bellowed. “You took your father’s inheritance and agreed to protect this valley without even knowing if you could? Are you deficient?”

Luther’s guests turned toward him, their eyes questioning.

“Whoever wrote this announcement didn’t know what my arcanum was.” Luther said. “That’s all. I never would have taken my father’s inheritance if I’d thought I couldn’t defend this valley. I’ve kept it a secret as a surprise for the first person foolish enough to challenge me. No one here doubts my might. They watched me spar only last night.”

Branan’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw set. His spouses, now standing behind him, stood tall and rigid. Luther’s guests returned to their seats, now more amused than alarmed. They’d seen his sparring match with Helena, heard his adventures, and they’d watched him protect his secret. Some thought the idea clever, and others childish. If he succeeded in such an endeavor, it might give him the edge in a challenge. Though, that he needed an edge suggested either a subtle cowardice, fear of losing, or despicable weakness.

Still, his calm in the face of Branan’s explosive temper suggested power. At the very least, his lack of fear or panic and dismissal of Branan’s concerns secured his power in his guests’ eyes.

“Not strong enough to hold your position by force, so you resort to trickery?” Branan asked. “Trickery is the coward’s knife, broken by the mighty’s shield.”

“Ah, but wisdom and cunning are the mighty’s arms and hands. The mighty do well to remember their weapons.” Luther said, answering Branan’s proverbs with proverbs of his own. He was nothing if not well-read.

“Let me have the honor of being first to challenge you, then.” Branan spat, though the spittle didn’t make it far beyond Petros’ shoulder.

“I have a three-day respite from such challenges, which ends tomorrow.” Luther said, speaking calmly as if he would fight Branan if only the law allowed it. “As is the law.”

“As is the law.” Branan repeated through gritted teeth. “Fine. Then we will stay here and wait for your deadline. I will issue my challenge as soon as the sun rises in the morning. Then, we will see who is better able to protect this valley. As is the law.”

“As is the law.” Luther agreed. “We were just finishing breakfast, but you’re welcome to join us if you wish.” Luther gestured to the table, surprising his current guests.

Branan looked around. “Heh.” He shook his head. “You’re trying to get married to as many as possible, eh?”

“Oh, it just happened. You know how love is. When a gorgeous woman claims she’ll only marry someone who can defeat her in a challenge.” He gestured to Helena. “And another beautiful woman declares her passion for romance.” He gestured to Jo. “What’s a wealthy man to do?” He shrugged as if he had no choice whatsoever in the matter of his marriages.

His guests smiled at his charming and polite response.

“Please.” Luther said. “I insist you join us and accept my hospitality. Have you eaten breakfast?”

Branan looked behind him, and one of his spouses nodded. Branan grunted and gestured to the table. “Your generosity is at capacity, my lord.” Some of the guests winced at the verbal slap.

“Nonsense!” Luther clapped. He’d seen his father’s books. He couldn’t afford this breakfast every day, but today? “Ten more seats, please, Wulfric.”

Wulfric and several servants appeared, hastening Miss Burville aside so they could expand the table with inserted portions, leaves, and legs. When they finished their work moments later, the table had grown with space enough for ten additional seats. The guests counted, and two seats remained empty.

“And do show in Mister Burville when you get the chance if Emily permits.” Luther told Wulfric. “And do me a favor? Find Criella. I expect she’s the one who published the broadsheet.”

“Yes, Sir.” Wulfric bowed and was gone.

Luther waited until Branan and his family sat before taking his own seat. His eyes remained on Eira, whose half-smile said, “I told you so,” without her lips forming a single syllable.

“Well, now that this has become the most exciting breakfast I’ve had in a while, how shall we spend the rest of the morning?” Luther asked. “Horseback riding?”

“If you please.” Emily said, raising her hand. “I believe you promised me a tour of the house and its library? But you were distracted last night after Dame Le Fey proposed.”

The eyes at the table turned to Helena. She looked confused, then realized the identity of the Dame Le Fey mentioned rested on her. She smiled, and her family smiled with her.

“We should depart afterward.” Bertilak announced, ignoring the glares of Branan several seats away. “We don’t want to impose upon your hospitality.”

“No.” Rhosyn and Eira said. “We have another wedding to attend this afternoon.”

Bertilak raised an eyebrow and glanced at Emily, then Holly/ They looked as interested in what was being discussed as he did.

“If you’re still willing to marry us, Lord Le Fey?” Rhosyn and Eira asked.

Helena and Jo offered no objections, but both couldn’t hide their unsettled reactions to the girls speaking together the way they did. It was eerie, and the entire table was under its spell too deeply to realize the magnitude of what the girls were asking.

“I am.” Luther said. “But ours is a union now. Hel? Jo?” He asked, looking at each in turn. “Do you have any objections to joining a union with Eira and Rhosyn?”

The table fell silent, waiting for their response.

“I have no objections, husband.” Jo said, reverting to a stiff, formal address in the presence of Branan and his spouses.

“No objections here, Lu-Lu.” Helena said, smiling as she teased him with the new contraction of his name.

“Lu-Lu?” Her mother, Regina, asked, stifling a giggle.

“If I’m Hel, and Jowangshin is Jo, then Luther is Lu-Lu.” Helena explained. “Right?” She looked at Luther, who couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Absolutely.” Luther nodded. “We’ll have to come up with nicknames for Eira and Rhosyn after they join our union.”

The twins smiled, moving in synchronous movements that made the hairs on the back of Luther’s neck stand to attention. Still, they smiled about their proposal, even with Branan and his spouses glaring at them the entire time. The scales were balancing tenuously. Five on eight was still a tough fight but winnable, especially if Luther’s arcanum proved a formidable surprise.

Branan eyed the twins as if trying to guess their magic without seeing it. He didn’t look away from them as he ate the breakfast pastries the servants placed before him and drank his coffee.

Eira and Rhosyn turned to face him, smiled, winked, and returned to facing each other.

Branan looked away after that, keeping his eyes on his food. He still had the advantage in numbers and experience. He and his partners had been fighting for years, decades, for some. Luther’s partners had sparse years of combat experience under their belts. The Verdell twins didn’t even have that. And none had ever worked or fought as a united team before.

That was a significant advantage in Branan’s favor. Any challenge Luther and his spouses answered might end all too quickly.