Chapter 91

With the tournaments over, the people of Hornpeak truly committed to two of their favourite activities — drinking and dancing. From my place next to Gramps on the Baron’s platform, I watched as many of the adults, and more than a few of the teenagers, began to partake in ever increasing amounts of their lord's largess.

Through it all, Baron Joss made himself available for anyone who came by to share a few words. Some were just praise for the festival or thanks for his generosity. A few took the opportunity to mention their own plans or hopes for expansion. Joss always responded diplomatically, committing to nothing, but still making the person feel seen and heard. I took the opportunity to eavesdrop and learn a little more about how to manage people.

In one break between visitors, Joss leaned over towards Gramps. “Factor Hawthorn, would you mind if I asked your daughter to dance?”

My head snapped towards the Baron, a feeling of concern bubbling in my stomach. The old codger was just as bad, immediately tensing up. Our reactions were so obvious that the Baron raised a hand placatingly.

“I promise nothing untoward, though you are right to worry over ulterior motives — especially given your past. I will admit that there have been questions about when I will take a wife. Your daughter is by far the most beautiful of the unmarried women present, and it would do well for the community to see me dance with at least one eligible woman before I retire for the evening. It will also help to deter some of the more aggressive suitors — though your daughter may bear some of their ire, if she doesn’t already.”

With every word my eyes widened slightly. I hadn’t expected Joss to be such a politically savvy man given how comfortable he seemed around his sword. Then again, I suppose one probably didn’t rise to be a Knight and then a Baron with a surname like Tailor unless they had at least some ability to navigate noble politics.

“And if this ire causes her issues in the future?” Gramps asked, his gaze remaining intently on Joss.

Joss’s beard shifted as he smiled and turned one hand over as if offering something. “I am more than willing to compensate your daughter for any trouble she incurs in assisting me with this. She would be doing me quite the favour after all. In fact, if she could join us up here after the dance to truly sell it to the people of Hornpeak, that would be even better.”

Gramps nodded slowly as he took the pipe I had gifted him from his pocket and placed it between his teeth. A sign of nervousness, if I had ever seen one.

“But you’ve no intention of continuing any pursuit of her beyond this… ruse?” he asked around the pipe.

“No. To improve my position and that of Hornpeak, I intend to marry a second or third daughter from another Duchy in Meravia. A Count’s daughter, if I can manage it. That is the request from my Lord, Duke Landrin. Until that happens, I appear eligible, and a Baron is far more approachable, especially in such a remote location. We’re on the frontier here, and people behave differently so far from the true seats of power.”

“Very well. You have my permission to ask her,” Gramps replied as he raised his hand until he got Mum’s attention from where she sat with all our friends. With a few flicks of his finger, he motioned for her to come join us. “I cannot promise you she will say yes though.”

Mum lifted her silk dress as she picked her way through the drinking and dancing crowd before joining us before the Baron’s stage.

“My apologies for interrupting you, Miss Penelope,” Joss said, standing slowly and stepping off the stage to join her. “With your father’s permission, I was hoping that I might request a dance with you?”

Joss offered his hand as Mum’s eyes flicked to Gramps. I caught the imperceptible nod from the old codger, and Mum put on a smile that looked a little forced but reached out to take the Baron’s hand.

“It would be my pleasure, my Lord.”

Even though I was privy to the Baron’s true purpose, and knew it was all an act, seeing my Mum’s discomfort still bothered me. The only silver lining was that Joss appeared to be a perfect gentleman. The people of Hornpeak gave him plenty of space to share a dance with Mum, but his hands never strayed beyond propriety. As soon as the song ended, he stepped back and gave a loud clap, spurring the crowd to cheer for both the musicians and, I assumed, their Lord as well. Then he was escorting Mum back to the stage.

One of Joss’s guards carried over a chair, placing it down between Gramps and me. I didn’t keep track of much of the conversation that followed, but it was enough that Mum relaxed quickly after Gramps let her in on the Baron’s intentions.

Just watching the festivities saw me yawning before long. As though he had been waiting for just that moment, Nazim appeared by my side.

“Would you like me to take him back to the outpost?” the wolfkin asked Mum.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Mum agreed, shifting as though she intended to join us.

“If you wouldn’t mind waiting just a little longer, Miss Penelope,” interjected Baron Joss as he put down the silver cup he was drinking from. I had long since realised that despite the fanciness of the chalice, Baron Joss was only drinking water. “I’ll be retiring shortly as well, and I think it would look better if we all left at the same time.”

“Bastian too?” Mum asked as she glanced at my tired face.

“Oh no, the little champion has certainly earned his rest, and no one will think twice about the youngsters being ferried off to warm beds. Just you and your father, if it isn’t too much of an imposition?”

Mum seemed a little uncertain, but after a few seconds of thought and a pointed glance at Nazim, she settled back into her seat.

Smoothing out her dress, she inclined her head slightly to Joss. “Very well, so long as it won’t be too much longer.”

“I appreciate it, Miss Penelope, and will make sure it is remembered when I return the favour when the time comes. Congratulations, again, on your victory, young Bastian. I think in the future we can expect great things from you. When you inevitably outgrow Hornpeak, try to remember us fondly.”

I heard the subtext in the Baron’s words. He knew that I wouldn’t stay up here in the mountains. Was his little act with Mum also for me? Something to make sure I remembered him fondly? The many layers of politics and future plans were tying my tired head in knots.

My response was simple, giving nothing away. “I will, my Lord. Thank you for the opportunity.”

As soon as I straightened from my bow, Nazim’s paw was on my back and escorting me away. A few members of the crowds patted me on the back — most gently but one or two were clearly fueled by alcohol, straying closer to a shove then a congratulatory touch — as I crossed the tournament grounds.

Griselda and Martin sat together beside Etta’s family. Martin was sharing his warm, bear coat with my half-orc mentor, the pair of them swaying to the music with a large, wooden mug in hand. Happiness welled up in me at seeing them together. The Kellins’ seat was vacant, the pair having left earlier to take their young son home to bed.

“You were so good!” Etta yelled as she charged me, almost taking me off my feet as she wrapped her arms around me. I patted my friend’s back with one hand in response.

“Your dad and Nazim are good teachers,” I replied, trying to suppress the blush filling my cheeks at the praise.

“Nonsense,” George added as he offered a hand. “You took what we taught you and applied it well. I thought that last boy might have you with Quick Step — but you used his own strength against him. Cleverly done.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just ducked my head and said nothing.

“I was about to take him home,” Nazim said, coming to my rescue before someone else tried to praise me.

“We were thinking the same,” George agreed, turning towards his wife and mother-in-law. “Unless you’ve changed your mind, Lucille?”

“No, Deary. These old bones are starting to feel the chill. I’d love nothing more than to go sit by the hearth and warm up, maybe tell a story or two to my little storm cloud?”

Etta had since let go of me, but at her grandmother's words, she immediately started to tug on her father’s wrist. The stall from earlier had long since been dismantled and returned to their house.

Before we left, I ran over to Griselda to collect my hatchet and shield from her safekeeping. In the firelight, her pale green skin looked almost white. She was clearly a few ales deep, but after handing over my weapons, she reached out and touched my face just like she had after I killed the goblin.

“Warrior,” she whispered, a note of pride in her voice.

I didn’t know why, but I reached out and touched her cheek just as she had mine.

“Warrior,” I repeated.

Griselda grinned and then hollered loudly at the sky, frightening a few of the people nearby. If she cared about their reaction, she didn’t show it. Instead, she held out her mug for me.

“Drink?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Goodnight, Griselda, Martin.”

“Night, lad,” Martin replied happily while Griselda just nodded before taking a large draw from her mug.

With my farewells handled, I ran over to join Nazim and the others. The six of us started walking away from the festival grounds and down the trade road. The keep on our right was still manned, with a few guards patrolling the walls even now. I kind of hoped that they had at least gotten to enjoy some of the festival earlier in the day.

“What weapon will you get for your prize?” Etta asked as she skipped along the road happily.

My mind went to my gifts. I had a proper hatchet from Griselda already. With my clawed glove and shield, the only thing I was missing was a proper sword. Then I would have everything to train properly in the Hunting Wolf style. Mum might lose her mind if I practiced with actual steel, but it had to happen eventually.

“Sword, probably. Shame they didn’t have a tournament to do with aether. You would definitely have won,” I replied, doing my utmost to prop my friend’s self esteem up.

“Nope. I wouldn’t have competed anyway,” Etta replied, not seeming at all bothered by her lack of a chance to shine. “Dad says I need to keep it a secret till I go to an Academy. You’re going to go to one too right? Maybe we could go together?”

“You would be in different years even if you did,” George interjected as he scanned the forest to our left. “They group everyone based on age since it’s the most reliable predictor of your Class Path tier. Some of the lessons might be mixed though. Exceptions exist after all.”

The earthen swordsman glanced at his daughter for a moment.

We veered off into the forest, Nazim and I sticking with the Millers as they headed for their house. The outpost was locked up, and we would be entering via the backdoor, so it wasn’t out of our way. I got the sense Nazim was doing it so I could keep chatting with Etta.

The shrubs hiding their cozy home parted before us, and we stepped into the little clearing surrounding their home.

“Night,” I said to Etta, turning to leave as a gust of wind blew into our faces.

I hadn’t even finished shifting when Nazim roughly pulled me behind him.

“I smell horses and oiled steel,” the wolfkin growled, yellow eyes searching the darkness as he drew his sword.

George’s hand was halfway to his own sword when the front door of their house banged open.

A svelte, young man stepped out into the night, hand resting on a rapier at his hip, and a smile on his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. “It's so good to see you again, George.”