Warning: This update contains one scene of torture.
The Mageborn Cynic Chapter 4 Part 2
Quinn awoke early in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. She didn't know who this apartment had belonged to previously but it obviously hadn't been properly aired out in a while judging by the slight moldy smell of damp coming from the drapes and that dark patch on the wall by the window.
She went to the garderobe and used the privy then rang the bell for her maid. Her own three maids had remained behind in Lawndale so she had been assigned a woman who had formerly served Lady Alicia, Lord Tomas' wife and the mother of the two little boys who'd been murdered. That could be why she seemed to be on the verge of tears all the while and disinclined to chat.
Dressing quickly Quinn asked the woman to fetch traveling cloaks for both of them as she wanted to go outside to have a look around before breaking her fast and confessed she needed a guide through the labyrinthine corridors of her family's ancestral home. She also felt the need to get out into the fresh air as there seemed to be something dour and oppressive about the castle, perhaps the ghost of old Silvestre Canis still roamed the halls.
As she walked she was surprised to find that she wished she was going to school to meet with her friends and chat about dresses and other inconsequential things. She sighed.
'I understand why your Ladyship is so burdened with sadness.' The maid spoke up voluntarily for the first time, tears in her eyes and a wail in her voice. 'We are all stricken with horror at what has occurred under this roof. The tragic loss of our noble Lady and her boys especially has crushed my heart. Oh! What will become of us all? What will we do? The Duke is dead! The House of Morgendorffer is in ruins!'
Quinn looked at her coolly. They had just crossed the covered bridge that joined the front gate of the castle to the shore. 'Tell me Phyllis.' She asked with deceptive mildness. 'I know why the flag flies at half-mast but why are those hanging banners being unfurled on the battlements?' As she spoke maroon and black banners, twenty feet long, were rolling down the outside of various walls of the complex interconnected structure.
'Oh, they're to signify that the Duke is in residence but he's… perhaps your father ordered it to honor the Duke or something like that.'
'No Phyllis, it is as you said, they signify that the Duke is in residence. Don't forget it again. Now wait here until I return, I am going to take that road by the lakeshore for a little distance then I will require you to guide me to the dining room.' The woman flushed but Quinn could have cared less. Her father was the Duke, no one else, he was the Duke as he always should have been.
There was a paved road that followed the curve of the lake from the castle to the seven arched bridge that led into the town of Loughrea. She paused before the bridge and turned to have her first good look at Schloss Morgendorffer.
The original keep was lost in the mélange of additions and extensions that had accrued over the centuries. Although still highly defensible it had softened out and had more of the air of a stately home than a fortress. The castle and town had been built at the narrow southern end of a vast long lake fed by numerous mountain streams. Just below the town it emptied into a deep, fast-flowing river that wound out through the hills and watered the fertile plains they'd driven through yesterday. A slim trading vessel was availing of the breeze to wend its way upstream. Several smaller boats were on the lake fishing. The sun gleamed off the pristine clear waters and the snow flecked heights of the northern range were reflected in its glassy surface.
Across the lake on the Eastern shore were orderly rows of tents and cookfires. She recalled how the previous night as they'd crossed the bridge and seen the fires stretching into the distance she'd feared they were to be attacked again.
'Whose army is that Father?' She'd asked, more afraid than she cared to let on.
'Mine.' He'd answered with a mournful sigh.
Quinn gazed angrily at the view across the lake. It was almost too perfect a morning for the mood she was in. She tried skipping some pebbles across the surface the way she'd seen some boys do it but they just went splash. She picked up a few larger stones and heaved them in, causing ripples that propagated far out across the water. That seemed to satisfy her more, after a few minutes of this she was panting and sweating in a very unladylike manner. She turned her head to blow an errant tress away from her eyes just in time to see the family coach coming across the bridge from the town. Puzzled, she took the few steps back up to the road hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever was inside.
She needn't have worried. The coach stopped close by and a young woman garbed as a Dhanuan nun in a high wimple and dark gray worsted robe got out and approached her. 'Have I the honor of addressing the Lady Quinn?' She asked in a barely audible voice.
'Yes, I am she.'
'Would you come to the coach please, there's someone who wants to meet with you.' Quinn gestured for the nun to lead the way and followed after, curious.
The door of the carriage was open and Quinn could see three other younger nuns and one much older, her face careworn and deeply lined. It was this woman who addressed Quinn. 'Greetings child. Do you know me?'
'I confess I do not Sis... Mother...?'
The old lady smiled. 'You may call me Grandmama. I am your FarMor, Ruth of House Morgendorffer.'
Stunned into silence Quinn at least had the presence of mind to dip the old woman a curtsey. Finally finding her voice she asked. 'You're not dead?' Which was about as stupid a question one could ask in the circumstances but her nerves were more than a little frazzled.
'Evidently not child. Now, please join us and we will proceed indoors to meet my son.'
Quinn obeyed. Her curiosity getting the better of her she asked. 'Are you truly a nun? How could that be if you're a grandmother?'
'I was not always a nun. After my husband, the noble Duke Sylvestre died I found courtly life burdensome and the good sisters graciously granted me a place among their order.' She raised her voice and called out 'GO!' The carriage moved off.
'But why did you not come to the funeral? Why...? OH! Forgive me my lack of manners your Ladyship, please accept my condolences on the deaths of your son and his family.'
'Thank you child. In truth I have shed many bitter tears these last few days and even my prayers give me little comfort. To answer your other question I have two reasons. The first is that I am in poor health and cannot travel very far. The second is that I am a cloistered sister and may not leave except under the orders of my Abbess or, like today, at a direct request from the reigning Duke. Jakob has requested my presence and may not be gainsaid.'
'I see, thank you. I am honored for the privilege of meeting you, your Ladyship.' Quinn had finally remembered how to conduct herself. The carriage had come to a halt in the central courtyard of the castle and Jakob and Helena were approaching. Daria stood on the steps by the main door.
'As am I. Stay a moment, do not address me as "Ladyship", it is inappropriate for a woman of the cloth, the proper form is "Sister" but I really would prefer for you to call me Grandmama.'
'Of course, Grandmama.' Quinn answered with her most winning smile.
Jakob opened the coach door himself and offered an arm to help his mother alight. Then he kissed her formally on both cheeks and stood aside so Helena could greet her. Taking an arm each Helena and Jakob helped her up the stone steps to the door where Daria came forward to curtsey and greet her. Quinn was about to follow them inside when one of the sisters touched her elbow.
'My Lady, we were instructed to bring this for you and give it to you discreetly.' She whispered, handing Quinn a burlap sack tied about with string. Quinn thanked the sister and carried it into the house. Rather than follow her family immediately she took herself to a nook in the corner of the hall to open the parcel.
What she found inside made her blood run cold. She stood up white as a sheet and almost ran into Phyllis who had followed in from the yard. 'Get out of the way you... you... aauugghhh!' She turned and ran toward her room, weeping all the way, the hateful parcel still clutched in her hand. The last thing Phyllis heard as she rounded a corner was. 'I won't, I WON'T! They can't MAKE me...'
Michael, son of Laird Angus, grandson of Laird William Congaile and of the Great Grandson of the Honorable Séan O'Conáire of the Clan Mackenzie was sore. Not in one or two places but all over. He had bruises, scrapes, cuts... at least two missing teeth and a clump of hair had been torn out of his head. In addition to all this he had the Prince of all Hangovers!
He wished he was dead.
His wish was not granted.
First he'd had to sit through that formal breakfast with the Duke and his family including the Duke's mother who had maintained a brittle formality throughout. Helena seemed to be the main target of the old woman's barbed little comments about Jakob's weight and the comportment of her daughters. Quinn had been conspicuously absent during this trial and Mack envied her.
Daria had seemed to be highly amused about something and although she remained in stoic silence at the table she took a delight in teasing Mack about his injuries in the aethereal realm. She pressed him for details about how he came to look as if he'd been run over by a cart.
'Look, it's a tradition, all right.' He finally answered her in exasperation. 'Alan took what I said as an insult so we had to sort it out the Northland way.'
'And what way is that? I want details, Mack, details.'
'Look it's private if you...'
'Oh come on Mack, tell me please.' Mack got the sense there was more than one person on the other end of the psychic link, Quinn maybe...?
'Righ' look it wasn't anything, Alan got in late with your man Emuir and the body of that other fella, then we locked ourselves in a room so nobody could interfere or join in, Northlanders love a guid fight.'
'Ah, so you fought.'
'Aye, for an hour... I think... then we tapped a keg of Uisce Bheath and got drunk, that's it, all right. Noo we're friends agin and I have a headache so if ye don' mind...'
He could hear her laughter in his mind and then distinctly heard her say 'No, I can't ask him that.'
'Who are ye talkin' too?'
'Oh, ehh... dammit... So... what were you wearing when you and Alan were fighting?'
'WHAT?' Mack only realized he'd said that out loud when everyone in the dining room turned to look at him.
'Daria!' Jakob admonished from the head of the table. 'You know my views on this, when we're at table you will speak aloud or not at all, am I understood?'
'Yes Father. Please excuse me everyone.'
'Yes, you may be excused. Now go and see if your sister has recovered from her indisposition.'
'Yes Father.' Daria had risen and left casting an apologetic last thought at Mack.
'Captain Mackenzie.'
'Your Grace.'
'You are a welcome guest in my house but please be aware that there are certain rules governing behavior that will be obeyed. One of them is no telepathic conversations at the table, am I understood?'
'Yes Your Grace, my apologies.'
'Good, now you too may leave the table. I want you and your senior men in my study in one hour, bring the prisoner.'
Mack had looked regretfully at his unfinished breakfast but knew a dismissal when he heard it. As he approached the door it had suddenly flown open and Lady Quinn came in sobbing. She'd run to her father and fallen on her knees clasping his hands in hers. 'Please Father, please oh I beg you do not send me there, please? I swear I'll be good, I swear I'll never kiss a boy again I promise to...' He had never found out what she promised as he found himself jerked suddenly outside the door with it closed firmly in his face. Daria was in the hallway.
'I'm sorry Mack, this is private family business, you understand.' He'd bowed and gone on his way.
Now here he was, still suffering, head still pounding and of course still hungry as he waited in the anteroom of the Duke's study. Alan and a couple of the other men were nearby as well as Emuir who looked as if he'd lost a fight with a troll. Alan glanced at him and winked one of his blackened eyes. 'At least he's in the same shape as me!' Mack thought ruefully, then flexed his still-tender jaw.
The door opened and Jakob called them in. Four of the Archmages were already in the room as well as Helena and Daria and a young man he hadn't seen before. A high backed chair had been placed in front of the desk. Without having to be asked the Northmen plonked Emuir into it and tied his wrists, ankles and neck to the heavy oak.
'Now gentlemen.' Jakob began. 'There is a formality we need to get out of the way before we continue. I know you're all trustworthy but because of what's at stake here I must ask each of you to give your word that nothing you hear or see or perceive here today will be revealed to anyone else or discussed outside this room. If you feel in all good conscience that a prior oath or commitment precludes you from swearing this oath then please leave now and no question will be asked of you.'
Friedrich raised his hand and spoke. 'I am in training to take Holy Orders and serve the Church, as part of that training I must make a full confession weekly and hold nothing back so by your Grace's leave I will absent myself from this.'
'Of course Friedrich, thank you for your candor. Anyone else? No? Then I will ask each of you to state your name and give your word.' Friedrich bowed and left. The others all did as they were bade ending with Mack.
'I am Michael son of Angus of the Clan Mackenzie and you have my word.'
'Very well, Daria, please summon the Truthsayer.'
Daria went to the door and called. 'Sister, will you join us please?'
A slim figure in a nun's habit entered. A black veil hung from the peak of the high wimple and completely covered her face. There was something about her though, something familiar. He was about to attempt to use his perception to see through the veil when he felt Daria's icy touch in his mind. 'Don't. It's Quinn, no one is to know, you swore an oath, remember?' Only when she withdrew did he realize the grip she had on his mind, she could have destroyed him if she'd chosen to. That was NOT a pleasant feeling though somehow his headache had vanished.
Quinn took up position behind Emuir and put her hand on his head. Jakob was reading through some papers and finally looked up at the man, giving him a contemptuous glare.
'Good morning Ruttger. First, let me explain some things to you. You're a dead man, but you knew that already didn't you? Yes of course. Now, I know you arranged for the robber gang to ambush us yesterday, I know you did it in an attempt to steal gold from my family. I know you attempted to have James Nördlich become your accomplice and when he refused you shot him in the eye.' As Jakob said this the young man suppressed a sob and Mack now had a pretty good idea who he was. Jakob paused and sighed before continuing. 'So you know I know all about your crimes, any one of which would condemn you to the gallows. Now I am going to make a promise to you. If you tell me what I want to know I will not kill you, do you understand?'
Emuir looked up, a wild hope in his eyes. 'My Lord I...'
'SILENCE! You will answer my questions and nothing else, I will not listen to your voice otherwise.'
Emuir nodded, or tried to, the rope around his neck held him fast.
'Now, what I want to know is... what involvement did you have in my brother's murder?'
There was silence in the room. Emuir opened and closed his mouth like a landed fish. Finally he croaked out. 'My Lord... nothing... I didn't... I never...' Quinn was shaking her head.
'Captain Mackenzie, his left ear please.' Mack drew his dirk and approached the prisoner. The man was screaming 'NO NO NO!' Mack grabbed his ear and set his blade against it. He looked in Jakob's eyes who nodded. Once swift cut and it was done. He was surprised how little blood there was. Emuir was wailing and begging. Mack set the knife against the other ear. 'No.' Jakob said quietly. 'An eye next time as a gift for young Master Nördlich. Well Ruttger? The truth?'
'I... I... I did n... n. nothing myself my Lord... I...'
'You sold information?'
'Y...yes...'
'To whom?'
'A... a man, a man no please I'm telling the truth I swear on my mother's life I swear...'
'Who is this man? What is his name?'
'I only know him as Dietrich that's all please...'
'Describe him... no, wait...' Jakob paused as if listening to something. 'Picture him. Call him up in your mind as you last saw him.' After a moment Jakob looked at him in disgust. 'So, you sold my brother's life and that of his family for a purse of gold to a darkmage? You treated with that scum knowingly placing your soul at risk?' Jakob started pacing back and forth as he tried to get his temper under control. 'I want the names of the door guards you paid off, I want the names of the servants who gave the drugged ale to the guards who would not take a bribe, I want the names of any other accomplices you have. Talk while you still have a tongue.'
Emuir did talk. For every name he gave Quinn nodded. At the end Jakob asked. 'Is there ought else you want to tell me? Any other relevant fact? No? Very well, Jamie, bring in his wife.'
Young Nördlich went out and a few moments later came back in escorting a well endowed woman with frizzy red hair. She screamed when she saw her husband bound up and bleeding. One or other of the mages silenced her and she was pushed down into a chair. Quinn put her hand on the woman's head and Jakob questioned her but she genuinely seemed to have no knowledge of her husband's duplicity.
'Very well Madam.' Jakob finally said. 'You have until sundown to pack and get out of town. You have until sunrise tomorrow to be out of Morgendorffer territory or your life is forfeit. Get her out.'
'What about me my Lord? You promised.' Emuir begged.
'Yes I promised I would not kill you. Instead I will fulfill a promise my daughter made. I release you into the custody of the Clan Mackenzie. They will escort you to the woods outside my house and then they will administer their own justice. I believe young Jamie here wishes to accompany them. May the Gods have mercy on you Emuir... but I somehow doubt it. Master Alan, get him out of my sight. Captain, I must ask you to remain, I wish you to accompany me with an escort of your men when I shortly go to meet with my officers.'
As Alan dragged Emuir away Mack bowed to the Duke. 'By your leave my Lord I will just go and wash my hands.'
'Do, I will arrange to have some food served in here when you return.' Mack grinned at him and was just in time to catch Quinn who collapsed in a dead faint in his arms. He picked her up and carried her out at Helena's instruction, following her and Daria to a private chamber nearby. She was starting to come around as he set her down on a divan.
She got a bit unsteadily to her feet brushing away the hands of her mother and sister and then Mack was glad he was standing back as she erupted into a rage that fully justified the fiery reputation of red-haired people.
'FIRST YOU GIVE ME THIS DISGUSTING OUTFIT AND MAKE ME THINK I'M BEING SENT TO A NUNNERY! THEN YOU FORCE ME TO LOOK INTO THE MIND OF THAT VILE, VERMINOUS, VENOMOUS VIPER OF A STEWARD AND THEN YOU FORCE ME TO STAND THERE WHILE THIS BUTCHER HACKS BITS OFF HIM AND THEN! THEN YOU STAND AROUND TALKING ABOUT STUFFING YOUR FAT FACES WHEN I HAVEN'T EVEN HAD...'
Mack heard no more as he turned and fled. As much from her vituperation as from the fact that she'd started to strip off the gray woolen habit as she shouted at them.
Outside he leaned against a wall and breathed deep. 'Oh Gods!'
I have made an illustration for Schloss Morgendorffer, Hellsbane and certain other Daria based images which can be viewed under my username: peetz5050 on the DeviantArt website.
