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James A. Hunter
James A. Hunter

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Vigil's Valor: 44 – Party Favors

Lady Hargreeves was at least two inches taller than me and had to be close to two-hundred and fifty pounds. It wasn’t fat, either. She was jacked. Her muscles had muscles. She was also pushing eighty and had white hair, one eye, and an assortment of faint scars crisscrossing her face, arms, and chest. She wore an embroidered gray silken dress just like the rest of the ladies, but there was no question that she was a brawler not a beauty.

This old gal had seen some shit and based on her battered knuckles alone, I was betting she’d probably spent a few drunken nights sparring against Bramin over in the Sprawl.

“Get on now,” she scolded the other mortified looking ladies. It was obvious that she was breaking every rule of decorum. It was equally obvious that she had approximately zero shits to give about it. “Don’t look at me that way,” she snapped. “You all know damned well who I am, which means you should also know that your opinion of me means less than two goats humming in a snowstorm. Now scuttle back to your handlers and commence with your gossip. The Vigil and I are going to dance.”

She turned away from them without another thought, grabbed my hand and dragged me into the line.

“I’m Lady Hargreeves, Matriarch of the Hargreeves Clan,” she said over one shoulder, “and you can thank me later. That whole group is a brood of vipers. The lot of ’em are incapable of speaking a single honest word even if you nailed their tongues to the table. I can’t believe the Citadel sent a bloody Inkarnate to this den of inequity.” She grimaced and shook her head. “What in the hell were the Custodians thinking, eh?” She eyed me sideways. “Like dispatching a young bloodhound to fight a pack of wolves.”

“No one sent me,” I said as the music started to play in earnest. It was an elegant melody with lively rhythm. “They don’t even know I’m here.”

“You’re here by your own volition? By Raguel, you must have a set of brass stones the size of an ale cask.” She grinned and chuckled. “That or you’re dumber than a sea ogre. Shouldn’t be surprised, I suppose. I’ve heard many an interesting thing about you, Boyd Knight. Things that attest to both your courage and stupidity. Using yourself as live bait for a Lake Kraken? That’s a ballsy move, though still less dangerous than wading into these waters, I’d wager.”

“How the hell do you even know about the Lake Kraken?” I asked in genuine surprise.

This time she laughed and slapped me on the shoulder.

She did not hit like a girl.

She hit like a dockworker.

“Vigils talk and minstrels are always looking for more fodder for their songs and tales,” she said offhandedly. “I’d wager that story is being recited in every Inn and pub this side of the Harbor by now. And not only that one. Felling an Elder Bear and saving the very people sent to apprehend you. Summoning fires from the heavens and setting blaze to an Eldritch Wither Vine.” She leaned in close, her lips pressed up against my ear. “They even say you single-handedly slew a Hexblight while skyclad, your manhood just hanging out for all the world to see. Any truth to that one?” She raised an eyebrow.

Her voice was breathy, and she was staring at me like a hungry dog that had caught the scent of a fresh piece of meat. Suddenly, it felt like I was being hunted again, only this time it wasn’t a Mortka. It was a steely haired cougar with a grip like She-Hulk.

“That last one may be a little exaggerated,” I finally replied. I was guessing that my nude death match against the Crave Ghouls had somehow been folded into my battle against Annelli.

She sighed in evident disappointment. “Knew it was too good to be true. Still, taking out a Hexblight all by your lonesome is a bloody impressive feat, even if you did have clothes on. I’m Steelborn myself. I’ve slain a fair few Mortka in my heyday. I thought maybe the stories about you were fabricated from whole cloth, but if you’re willing to come here, dressed like that”—she flicked one of my poofy sleeves—“then you might be as fearless as they say.”

“I appreciate the concern,” I said, “but I can handle a bunch of bored noblemen with more time on their hands than good sense.”

“Oh, its not this lot you need to be worried about,” she said. “It’s the Heir Apparent you best be keeping an eye on. He’s no bored noblemen, that one. He fought campaigns to the east as a younger man and is an accomplished Sorcerer in his own right. It’s no secret that he’s furious with your order. There are whispers of a terrible reckoning and with the king’s passing in the night, there’s nothing to stop him now.”

The casual, off-handed comment sideswiped me and stopped me cold.

“Hold on, pump the breaks, lady. Did you just say the king died last night?” I asked.

“Gods, you didn’t know?” She sounded surprised. “It’s not general knowledge yet but I thought surely the Citadel would’ve informed the Vigilant. The rumor mill says the Heir’s planning to announce his ascendancy today. Then, if you can believe this lot of serpents and rats, he’s going to declare open season on my family and on the Citadel. It’s the work of those damned Menhennicks. Poisoning him against us. ‘The Citadel doesn’t pay enough taxes. The Custodians don’t respect the Crown. The Vigils should be required to serve in the army.’”

She grimaced in disgust. “Filthy lies, all of it. And there’s not a damned thing to be done about it. That Menhennick girl has the prince’s cock, which means the rest of those flea-bitten charlatans have his ear. If they get their way, my family will be lucky to serve as dirt farmers by the time this is all through.” She paused and pulled me in close. “Since we’re speaking of rumors and we’re both likely screwed anyway, I don’t suppose you’d be interested in slipping out of this party? I have a suite upstairs with a private bathtub big enough for three.”

I’d come here fully prepared for political intrigue and maybe even a monster attack. Being solicited for a three-way by an octogenarian battle-maiden had not been anywhere on my royal party bingo card.

“I’m flattered, Lady Hargreeves, but I don’t think it would be—”

“Don’t deny your instincts, Vigil. Word of your epic battles aren’t the only titillating tales to cross my ears.” She pressed her body up against me. “A little birdy told me you have developed a taste for the delectable treats they serve at Tiers of Delight. As I said, I have a tub big enough for three. I’d be happy to order an extra cake or two if that would sway your mind.”

“That’s… I…” My mind blanked. “It’s not what it sounds like… I was there in a professional capacity.”

She cackled. “So, Boyd Knight, the Vigil Inkarnate is fearless on the battlefield but shy as a lady in waiting in the bedroom, is that it? I think not. If you’re worried about your reputation, you needn’t be. You’re hardly the first Vigil to enjoy Madam Domina’s baking.” She grinned and swept an arm around the room. “Hells, half the nobles in here have sampled her cakes. Even I may have visited a time or two.”

Mercifully the song faded and came to an end, saving me from having to give any kind of answer.

“There you are,” Kerra said, swooping in like a guardian angel. I’d never been more grateful to see her. “I’ve been looking for you. Apologies, Lady Hargreeves, but I must borrow him for the next dance. Something urgent has come to my attention, I’m afraid.”

“Of course, Lady Justiciar,” the woman replied, dipping her head. “Enjoy the rest of the party. As always, House Hargreeves stands ready and waiting to serve. Should you ever need anything, anything at all, I am at your beck and call. And Vigil Boyd, my offer for cake is always open, should you ever find yourself hungry.” She shot me a sly wink, then drifted off into the crowd.

Another song started, this time a slow number. Couples paired up and began twirling across the floor in something that was close enough to a waltz for me to follow. I took one of Kerra’s hands in mine and place my other on her waist. She pressed in against me and smiled.

“Glad to see you followed my advice and stayed away from Lady Hargreeves. I hope your conversation was fruitful, at least.” I could hear the barely suppressed laughter in her voice.

“I can’t believe you waited as long as you did to come save me,” I replied before twirling her with one hand. “You were right about her. That lady is a of couple crayons short of a box. I mean, her wheel is spinning, but the hamster is dead. You made it sound like these people were subtle and witty. I’ve met less aggressive strippers.”

This time Kerra snorted with laughter. “Lady Hargreeves is a different breed of political animal and she’s as deadly on the prowl as any Mortka. She’s been around longer than ninety percent of the nobles in this hall and has seen more war, strife, and bloodshed than most knights. She doesn’t tolerate incompetence and she doesn’t bother with pretense or subtlety. Some people find it abrasive. I find it refreshing.” She paused and looked up at me with a glimmer of mischief in her eye. “So, are you considering her offer of dessert?”

“Funny, Kerra. Maybe if this whole Vigil of Valor thing doesn’t work out, you can try your hand at stand-up comedy.” I leaned in close and dipped her low. “Aside from watching me die from shame and embarrassment,” I said, pulling her back into my chest, “did you manage to find out anything useful?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” she said, suddenly serious. “The king passed in the night. Everyone’s already talking about it.”

“Yeah, I heard that too,” I replied. “I was hoping it wasn’t true.”

“That makes two of us,” she said.

“Lady Horndog seems to be under the impression that the prince is planning to formally announce his ascension today and then he’s gonna declare war on us,” I said as we wheeled around in a slow circle. “Not sure if that’s true, but I don’t want to be stuck in a fortified castle, surrounded by armed guards, if that’s how it goes down.”

“What would you suggest we do?” she asked, looking up at me. “Run? I haven’t seen the prince yet, which means he’s likely waiting to make a grand entrance once he’s sure all his guests have arrived. We might still be able to leave if we go now…”

I thought about it for a second, then shook my head. Much as I wanted to, we couldn’t bolt. “I didn’t go through all the trouble of putting on this ridiculous outfit just to bail now,” I said reluctantly. “Besides, if the shit really does hit the fan, I’ll just tell ol’ Horndog Hargreeves that I’m ready to eat some cake with her and she’ll probably kill every guard in this room to clear a path to her suite.”

“Let us hope it doesn’t come to that or you’ll have to make good on your promise,” Kerra said, “and I fear you won’t survive a night in her tender embrace.”

I believed her.

Cal materialized beside me as the music faded.

“The eagle has landed,” he said. Hushed murmurs rippled through the ballroom a second later as eager gazes turned toward the entryway. “The prince is getting ready to make his big entrance and he’s got some company.”

“Lords and Ladies,” the Herald’s voice boomed, cutting Cal off before he could say more. “Esteemed guests of the realm. Exalted dignitaries. It is with the greatest honor and utmost privilege that I announce the arrival of Heir Apparent Andreas Skovgaard, third of his name, Guardian of the Eastern Watch, High Commander of the Exalted Flame, and future Sovereign of Wildespell.”

Trumpets blared, loud and brassy, as a man of broad shoulders and medium stature strutted into the room. He wore a stiff ebony coat crossed by a golden sash, simple trousers, and a pair of polished black boots that went up to his knees. A functional, no-nonsense longsword rode one hip, and he had a row of shiny campaign medals pinned to the breast of his jacket. Prince Andreas looked like a soldier not a king, and his plain clothes stood in sharp contrast to the frills, lace, and fluff all around him.

I studied him closely. I was sure I’d never met him before, but he looked oddly familiar.

As he swept into the ballroom, a round of thunderous applause erupted and every noble in attendance stood in recognition. There was no practiced indifference for him. He moved with the utmost confidence and the partygoers scrambled out of his way like the waters of the Red Sea parting for Moses. The musicians hastily fled the stage as he took to the platform and raised his hands for quiet. There was a long moment of tense silence as his stern gaze scanned the faces assembled before him.

Maybe it was just my imagination, but I could’ve sworn his eyes lingered on me and Kerra a moment longer than anyone else.

Finally, he spoke. His voice was deep and regal. Sophisticated.

“My fellow countrymen, we have gathered today to honor our fallen comrades. For the past several months, our city has been plagued by a nightmarish creature that has taken countless innocent lives, including fifteen good men of the royal guard and even one of the Vigilant. The loss of such fine men and women is a staggering blow and our beloved city is poorer for their absence.

“It pains me deeply to add to our collective suffering,” he continued, “but it is my solemn duty as Heir Apparent to inform all of you that Wildespell has lost another bright and shining light. Last night, my father Andreas Skovgaard, second of his name, and Sovereign King of Wildespell passed from this world and joined our honored dead in the Halls of Highfell. This likely isn’t a shock to most of you, since his health has been in decline for quite some time. Yet even though his passing was both natural and not altogether unexpected, it does not brunt the pain of his sudden absence.”

A tense hush fell across the room like a blanket and the guests bowed their heads in reverence.

“Still, as is so often true in life, the night is always darkest before dawn,” he continued after a long pause. “Even in the midst of the brutal and senseless tragedy that has befallen our great city, the light of hope rises over the horizon. Even in the midst of our grief and mourning, there is a cause for rejoicing. It is with no small amount of personal satisfaction that I come before you today with glad tidings of victory. The creature, which has so mercilessly stalked our fair streets, has at long last been brought to justice! Vigil Telent, please join me on the dais!”

Everyone turned toward the archway in confusion as the Herald introduced Telent, Kol, Amherst, and Jori. The four Vigils, decked out in their full battle rattle, marched across the room in lock step. And they came bearing gifts. Clutched in Telent’s hand was the enormous head of a monster with a golden, lionesque mane. They took the stage like conquering heroes and Telent thrust the grisly trophy into the air, just as I’d done back at the Twisted Pig in Grimwerp.

Blood dribbled onto the stage. No one cared. Victory was all that mattered.

Raucous cheers ripped through the room like a bomb blast as the normally reserved politicians lost their collective minds.

“Yes indeed,” the prince-turned-king boomed, his voice carrying over the din of the celebration. “Even in these darkest of times, hope is not extinguished. And I have yet more good news to buoy your spirits. It is no secret that I haven’t always seen eye to eye with the Citadel, but the valiant and selfless action of these men”—he waved at Telent and his team—“have shown me the errors of my ways. With the death of this terrible beast, I have resolved that it is time to turn over a new leaf and make peace with the Custodians. So, as my first new act as King, I wish to declare a new unity between our two peoples!”

This time the cheers of celebration were deafening. Everyone looked elated, with the exception of the Menhennicks and the Virtarun delegation. Oh, and me.

I grabbed Kerra’s arm and leaned in close. “We need to talk in private,” I whispered in her ear. “And I mean right now.”

While the prince had been talking, something Lady Hargreeves said trickled to the surface of my mind. “Hells, half the nobles in here have sampled her cakes.”

The prince looked familiar because I had seen him once before. He’d been wearing a top hat and he’d been standing outside Tiers of Delight.

Finally, the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place.


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