Chapter 11 Party of One
Count Maxim walked from the edge of the forest, beyond the stables, and back into town. It was the long way around, but the extra few minutes gave the noblemen a few extra moments for reflection on the plan whose details were still forming in his mind.
By the time he returned to the village inn, a gentle evening breeze was settling over the village, along with the setting sun, and the rising twilight.
The Count could see both Bruno, the Innkeeper and his own redoubtable canine servant, working together to set up a half a dozen huge barrels that would provide the libations for the villager's party.
In return for his generosity toward the people, the villagers themselves had seen to the cuisine. Dishes of every type and description filled six long wooden tables at the center of the inn to the point where each of them nearly sagged under the weight of enough food to feed the village twice over.
With the festivities in good hands, Count Maxim went not into the inn, but passed it by, heading for the modest roundish house on the edge of the village green which was home to Felice, Shibu, and Cici.
Before the party began, he had to make certain of one more thing.
Maxim was relieved to see another team of Dray sheep and a medium-sized wagon pulled up on the green itself, just off of the path which led in a roundabout way out of the village and into the forest.
As he approached the front porch, a familiar figure stepped sideways through the door.
The Count was quite surprised to see the young lad who owned the hat carrying a formidable trio of tent poles across his shoulders. They were bound together with sturdy leather cords, and were wrapped together with the length of hide that would form the tent.
Yet, Shibu moved underneath the load as if it barely weighed anything at all.
His load prevented him from stopping, and bowing to the noblemen as tradition demanded. But as their paths crossed for a few steps, Maxim got a much closer look at Shibu than he had before.
Even under the large hood which was a part of his hat, Shibu's mop of dense black hair helped to frame his face, and above all, to set off the pure almost reflective blue in the most stunning pair of penetrating eyes that Maxim could imagine.
Shibu's skin had just a hint of bronze in it, and along with Shibu's high cheekbones, smallish nose, and those wonderful blue wide set eyes that seemed to sparkle with the fire of curiosity, there was no doubt whatsoever that anyone who met the lad for more than the space of a few seconds would remember him vividly.
He was slightly longer of limb than average, but not overly delicate. His chest was broad and deep for his age, and it was obvious from the way he moved even while encumbered, that there was a certain grace and balance paired with an obviously above-average strength.
"Need a hand, Shibu?" The Count asked with an easy smile as he moved to lift the bundle of poles and tent from Shibu's shoulders.
Shibu shied away slightly. "It's all right, Count. I can manage." Shibu replied with a casual tone that the Count found refreshing.
Shibu passed him by, taking two long strides toward the wagon waiting a few steps off of the porch. The Count looked on as Shibu turned slightly, walking up to the open and of the wagon bed with the nimble side step. Then he slid the load off of his shoulders sideways, and into the wagon before ducking out from under the remainder of the length, and sliding the bound poles the rest of the way into the wagon bed. Once the weight was removed from his shoulders, Shibu's strong legs straightened, and the young boy with the hooded stocking cap hopped over the porch rail, and back into the house, as if he'd been carrying nothing at all.
Count Maxim had always been a careful observer. It was how he managed to survive both his birthright and his chosen profession, while many of his contemporaries had failed.
If Shibu was to be his, then learning all he could about him, and in every way he could would only grant him a larger advantage.
While he was considering everything he had seen, Felice floated around the edge of the door, headed for the wagon carrying some assorted glassware inside a small wooden box with an open top. Felice was so intent on holding the glassware steady that she almost came nose to nose with Count Maxim!
"Oh, good evening, Your Excellency." Felice said warmly. "I hope all goes well with you, and the festivities as well?"
"Everything is going swimmingly, Madame Felice. You need not worry in the slightest. I'm so very sorry that you and Shibu won't be able to attend the festivities." Count Maxim said with honest solicitude in his voice.
"I regret it also. More for Shibu's sake than my own." Felice reflected politely. "But this is for our village, and for Bonta. So we have no regrets. I'm quite certain that there will be other parties over the spring and summer time, to which Your Excellency shall be most cordially invited." Felice continued as she set the box of glassware down into a secure spot in the bed of the wagon. For just a moment, she came to a stop, and sat quietly on the edge of the open end of the wagon bed.
"In point of fact, we are very near ready to leave. I trust crossing parts of the forest in twilight, but we won't risk crossing in full darkness." Felice reflected. "But by leaving now, we shall reach the meadows and the far edge of the forest after sunrise tomorrow, which will give us all day to gather what we need."
"A fine and well thought out itinerary." Count Maxim replied cordially. "I leave this whole matter in two sets of very capable hands." Count Maxim replied.
Felice smiled gently at the nobleman's complement.
That was the opening Maxim wanted.
"May I ask you something rather personal?" The Count inquired.
"May it please Your Excellency." Felice replied with polished manners.
"Several dozen of the young lads here were regaling me with some unusual stories about Shibu, and his unconventional, shall we say, arrival." Count Maxim began. "Allowing some room for youthful exaggerations, I just wondered how much of it was true?"
"Well Your Excellency, as the entire village takes part in Shibu's upbringing, all of us know the story, although we may embellish it in different ways. But I can assure you that the substance of what you have heard is true." Felice answered patiently.
"A boy born on a lightning bolt!" Count Maxim replied. "And no one ever claimed him or called for him?" The noblemen asked discreetly.
"Sadly not, Your Excellency" Felice replied. She could not help but sound slightly downhearted as she spoke.
"How regrettable!" Count Maxim replied with genuine surprise. "You've done a remarkable job bringing up a most remarkable boy. Have you ever considered that he might be of noble birth?" Count Maxim inquired, treading lightly as he spoke.
"He's certainly a prince to every heart in this village, Your Excellency." Felice replied warmly.
"Perhaps I can assist you. I do have some standing at the Royal Court. I could lay the matter before the King himself." Count Maxim suggested.
The manipulative noblemen could see a mixture of doubt, uncertainty, and just a moment of fear flicker across Felice's large bright eyes.
"That would be most beneficent of Your Excellency." Felice answered as custom demanded. "The village acted to adopt him at the end of his first year, after all of our inquiries brought no information."
"Do not worry, nothing I would do would ever take Shibu away from here or separate him from those who care about him." The Count spoke up, sounding warm and reassuring. "But he is such a noble young lad. Very little about him is common." The Count continued.
"In that, we are all agreed, Your Excellency." Felice said as she stood up and curtsied to the noblemen. "Now if Your Excellency will pardon me, we must finish our preparations and be off. Please have fun at the celebration, and we will gladly see Your Excellency again soon."
"Most assuredly. Have a safe and pleasant journey, and a speedy and safe return."
Count Maxim bowed deeply to Felice, doffing his hat as he did so in a wide, sweeping arc. Then he turned, and strode off toward the inn.
After all, tonight was a night for celebration. And Count Maxim had much indeed to celebrate.
The entire village turned out for the Count's party. The kids had their own separate room, so that stronger drinks could be served safely to older guests. The candy, toys and games were popular, and most of the children were asleep long before midnight. Their parents were well-served with fine food and drink, as the children's room had also been turned into an overnight sleeping room, guarded by Count Maxim's servant. This eased the minds of the adults and let them enjoy themselves all the more.
The Count himself was in and out over the course of the evening, sounding jovial and friendly with all the villagers.
When more and more of them started to sink to the floor, or into upstairs rooms around midnight, the Count was also there, seen to be eating and drinking to seal his alibi.
Before the new day was a half an hour old, the Inn was as quiet as the stables nearby, and Maxim's servant left his station in front of the room where the children slept.
Before leaving, he was careful to wedge the door from the outside at the top and bottom, so it could not be opened from the inside.
The Count himself was glad to leave the Inn for some of the fresher night air. The nobleman also took a moment to quaff a small vile of antidote which he took from a pocket inside his cloak. As he met his retainer outside the Inn, the nobleman's cap was set.
"Tonight, we work differently." He began to explain. "Steal nothing. Touch nothing, and take nothing unless I tell you so. Understood?" The Count ordered in a commanding but low voice.
"As you command,Master." Came the simple reply.
"Good. Our first port of call is the fine cozy home of Shibu and Felice. Follow me, and above all else, keep silent."
"Yes, Master."
By now, The Count knew all he needed to know. He opened Felice's door as if he were her landlord, and closed it again quietly before walking into her workroom and library.
There was nothing here worth stealing, but Maxim was looking for information that was beyond the price which everything of value in the Village could bring.
He had seen this sort of equipment often, in better quality, and quantity in Bonta. It held no fascination for him. Potion making was simple labor, far beneath any true Noble. It was better left to those few common folk with a gift for the work.
Soon, the Count would be able to retain the loyal services of the six best alchemists in all of Bonta. There was no need to look for trade secrets within this quaint and simple dwelling. Instead this house held something of far greater value than all the potions in Bonta. Maxim's discerning and nefarious eyes swept the room for something entirely different altogether.
The nobleman was after information about Shibu. And it took the discerning Count less than two minutes of searching with his eyes alone to find what he sought. There was a small shelf just above the worktable. The only item on the shelf was a light wooden frame. One that held up and helped display one half of a golden medallion, cut in two by an ugly black line, where some indescribable power seemed to have neatly melted directly through the medallion.
Maxim immediately fixed upon it, as if nothing else in the entire Kingdom of Bonta mattered half as much. For the Count, the innocuous piece of curious brick-a-brac stood out as if it were five feet square. More than his eyes were instantly drawn to it. Maxim actually felt something stir deep within him as he looked at the characters inscribed into the gold. He knew the symbols because he had scoured lands throughout the World of the Twelve for any trace or mention of this particular language. When Maxim saw it, the Draconic characters on the metal disk glowed in his eyes like the precious metal from which the medallion itself had been struck.
The Count turned to his confederate, making a quiet sign which enforced the strictest silence within the room. "Our search here is done. This is what I am looking for. Nothing else in this entire village is worth one tenth as much as what you see before you." The Count told his faithful canine servant.
The meaning of the words seemed lost on the brown cloaked dog.
A look of slight displeasure, and then complete disregard crossed the nobleman's face. "But you don't understand any of that, do you?"
"Hardly Master." The canine servant replied in a dull whisper. "Should I take it now?"
"Oh no, in a way, this is probably the best protected object in the village, short of the boy himself. Felice would notice it missing the moment she came into the room. And that, we cannot have." The Count replied patiently. "But we shall have the information, which is the next best thing. Have you a sheet of vellum paper in your pocket, along with my charcoal sticks?"
"Yes Master, as you have instructed me, always."
As he spoke, the canine servant reached into a hidden pocket on his cloak, and drew out an extremely fine, thin sheet of what seemed to be paper, and a large square stick which left black marks on his brown paws.
Maxim took them in hand as if they were any other familiar tools of larceny. He reached up with his gloved hands, and took down the frame from the small shelf. He laid it flat delicately onto an open space on the worktable, and pressed the fine thin paper over the face of the partial golden disc. Then he took his other hand, and using two fingers to guide the charcoal, Maxim rubbed the drawing stick over the face of the medallion beneath the paper. Having done this, tens of times before, it came to the Count by reflex. Looking over the Count shoulder, a simple and familiar look of amazement came to the canine's face, as a picture the medallion seem to appear on the thin paper!
The Count was thorough and attentive in his work, being sure to capture the edges, and the unique lettering which was inscribed around the edge on the face of the surviving gold disc.
It took him less than a minute, and he had a nearly perfect copy of the face of the medallion that Cici had found in Shibu's basket on the faithful night slightly more than a decade past.
The nobleman was also more than slightly reverent in his touch where the disc was concerned, not knowing if the ancient metal retained any of the power from the great beings who had inscribed it.
When he was finished at last, after only five minutes or so, he was careful to replace the medallion, making certain the edges of the frame matched the slight dust marks on the shelf.
The Count was as expert at his craft as the dragons who had crafted the medallion. Felice would never know that he had been there, or the one clue to Shibu's true origin had been expertly preserved through copying.
Maxim took hold of the vellum with the charcoal impressions upon it, and holding it by the corners with two fingers only, laid it flat, and expertly rolled it up, so the charcoal impression would not smear or be disturbed. The nobleman produced a long, thin tube of native leather, and slid the charcoal stained vellum roll into it, as if the paper itself was made from the same gold as the medallion. When he was done, and his match case was secure once again in a pocket on his belt, the nobleman looked well satisfied.
"We have what we came for, my thick canine friend." Maxim said in a self-satisfied whisper. "It is late, let us return to the inn and retire. Our business here is done, for the moment."
"Potions, boss?" The canine servant pushed gently as a reminder.
"We shall have bathtubs full of healing potion before this is done, my loyal canine. Now, let us go back to the inn, before a stray set of eyes spoils this wonderful night."
The larcenous nobleman and his servant both slept until well after dawn. By the time that the inhabitants of the village began to recuperate from their unusual celebration, Felice, Shibu, and Cici had their village in sight on their return home.
Count Maxim and his servant awoke easily with the bright sunshine of the new day streaming into the windows of the room.
Without speaking a word, Maxim indicated to his canine servant that the two should wash and dress as quickly and quietly as possible. They were both ready for the day before the shadows in the room could shift with the rising Sun.
It was then that Count Maxim once again appraised the situation in which the two malefactors found themselves. It was a second story room, the only one on the building with any sort of balcony. It was also shaded in part by the slight overhang of the roof. The balcony faced East, to admit the morning sun, but this also meant that it faced the edge of the village green closest to the main path around the village, so it could be clear of other buildings, and the shadow of the trees in the forest nearby. The stables were at the rear of the inn, and facing south. This meant that the pair would have to walk around most of the building to reach the stable where their wagon and team had been prepared for a hasty departure the night before.
But as Count Maxim was formulating plans for a stealthy escape, another thought altogether came to him. He had fallen asleep the night before with his mind overflowing with thoughts of Shibu and the ancient people whom the Count was certain that Shibu represented. The nobleman found himself inextricably drawn not necessarily to Shibu himself, but to the tremendous gifts which the dark-haired boy undoubtedly possessed. He had shown traces of them in his ability for athletics, balance, stamina, and movement. As the nobleman glanced again at the bright illumination cast into the room by the sunrise, he was sure of what he felt, and also of what he knew.
There was no avoiding the sunrise, so why waste effort in trying? The best way to hide in the full light of day was to paint oneself with sunlight. He would not and could not skulk out of town like some whipped commoner. He was a noble. Who better than to represent the forces of light, even in the presence of shadowy intentions?
He turned to his canine servant with the most unusual, and somehow unnerving smile on his face as he spoke to the canine at his side.
"Come along my friend. We're not leaving just yet, and we're not leaving alone. Let us go down to breakfast, and eat hardy, for we have a morning's work ahead of us." Count Maxim told his servant.
"Kidnapping, Master?" The canine asked, extending his simple vocabulary nearly to its limits.
"No, my simple friend. We would never leave the village alive if we tried it. Rather, the dark-haired boy will come with us entirely of his own free will, and from that moment on, he will be ours, you shall see."