Chapter 30

I stepped away from the teleportation circle and looked around, within seconds my senses told me the house was empty, both Rose and Marc had gone elsewhere. That’s rather inconvenient, I thought to myself. I had hoped to find both of them at the house. That would have simplified my task. They needed to know what had happened to Dorian and Penny. Deep down I was slightly relieved though, I was dreading the conversation. Still, they had to be told and I couldn’t leave the task to someone else.

A piece of paper caught my eye; it had been tacked to the doorframe leading into the hallway. It was ideally positioned so that I wouldn’t fail to notice it after arriving. I took it down and recognized Rose’s elegant handwriting immediately.


Dear Mordecai,

I’m sorry there’s no one here to meet you, but I decided to return to my own home. I have been away from it for quite a while now and there were a number of matters that needed my attention. If you need to see me quickly please seek me there. My house is located at 17 Hightower Street, not far from the traditional Hightower residence. I’m sure you remember it, since you broke in there once.

Marc hasn’t been back in several days either and he may not return for a week or more. He has contrived a plan to gain access to certain religious archives. I won’t say more regarding it here, but I will be glad to give you more information when I see you next. Assuming he hasn’t already returned by then. I’m rather worried for his sake, as usual his idea is bold and daring, not to mention risky.

I found a suitable blacksmith for you. His name is Gavin Traylor and he’s a rather accomplished journeyman. He trained under Brian Turbrook, the chief weaponsmith and armorer for King Edward himself. His skills are excellent and he should probably have been promoted to master already in his own right, which I believe is the reason he seeks to leave the capital. My guess is that his teacher has kept him back for fear of creating undue competition for himself.

In any case, his difficult circumstances have created a wonderful opportunity for you. He readily agreed to your terms and should be arriving in Washbrook within a week or two. He said he would make the trip as soon as he had finished arranging his affairs and packing his own tools and such.

If that were not good news enough, I have another surprise for you as well. Peter and Lily Tucker showed up on your doorstep just a few days after you left. They seem to have had a change of heart and were interested in seeking employment in your Excellency’s service. I wasn’t sure what you would have wanted but I felt fairly safe in offering them terms on your behalf. Even now they are making the journey to Washbrook. I told Peter that you had need of another messenger and I told Lily that you needed more help among the castle staff.

As for their motivations… you can be sure there is more to that story than I know.

Last, and certainly not least, you should be aware that I spoke with my father, regarding a certain friend of yours. He responded very positively and hopefully you can arrange for Dorian to make a trip to the capital soon. Given your talents I don’t think it would be too much of a hardship. When you see Penny be sure to tell her. I think she will be almost as excited as I am. She and I have much to plan for. Say nothing to Dorian however… I don’t want you to spoil my news.

Sincerely,

Lady Rose Hightower


The innocent hope in Rose’s letter tore at my heart and I found my eyes watering as I stood there in the dim hallway. I had to deliver the news to her, though it would destroy her dreams for the future. I wondered as well how Marc would handle the news. Two of our best and oldest friends were now gone. Would this wreck his recovery from what the goddess had done to him?

It was too much to figure out alone. We would have to help each other. I couldn’t shoulder my own burden and theirs as well. I took the stairs down to the main floor of the house and made my way to the door. Since I had no way of knowing where Marc was I would definitely be looking for Rose first.

I was on high alert as I left the house, with my mind stretched out to its fullest. I was curious as to whether anyone had been watching the house, but although I found several people in the buildings nearby none of them gave any indication that they were interested, or even aware of my appearance. I kept my pace casual as I walked through the city, but I didn’t bother to disguise my features. As far as the king knew I might not have even returned home yet.

I found Rose’s house less than a block from the tower where her father lived. I knew she possessed several estates in her own right even though her parents were still alive. The Hightower family was so well placed they could afford to pass certain titles on to her while Lord Hightower himself still lived. The house was modestly sized for someone of her relative social standing but it was obviously well cared for.

While most houses in town had large iron knockers on the doors, this one bore a cleverly wrought brass bell. I pulled on a small rope that hung below it and an almost melodic chiming issued forth. It seemed perfectly suited to Rose.

Within a span of breaths the door opened and a woman with neatly coiffed hair answered, “Good day sir. How can I help you?”

“I am here to call on Lady Rose Hightower,” I said in cultured tones, doing my best to imitate Benchley’s voice. I haven’t thought about that pompous bastard in a while, I wonder how he’s doing?

The woman’s eyes made a rapid examination of my clothes as she replied, “May I ask who is calling sir?” Her own clothing was trim and sharp, a dark blue dress with light blue accents. I might have taken her for noblewoman herself but for the practical apron she wore over her front.

“Please tell her that the Count di’Cameron is here, if she is available,” I answered.

The door opened wider at that pronouncement, “You may wait inside your Lordship. I’ll inform the Lady immediately.” She ushered me into a small waiting room near the front hall.

After she left I spent my time examining the furnishings. As expected the room was well appointed. In fact, although the style and decorations weren’t as lavish as those at the royal palace, they were better chosen and more tastefully arranged, at least in my opinion. I sat down in a comfortable chair to wait. The cushions on it were covered with a patterned green fabric that matched the rest of the room perfectly.

I didn’t wait long however. Almost immediately after sitting the woman who had let me in reappeared. “Lady Rose would like you to join her in her bedroom sir,” she told me, though something in her voice gave me the impression she would rather have chewed dung than to say those words. Her expression was definitely disapproving even as she tried to hide her opinion on the matter from me. “If you will follow me,” she added and then turned away leading me further into the house.

The house really wasn’t that large, and it only took a few seconds to reach the bedroom. The door was still open and Rose called out as soon as she heard us, “I’m so glad you’ve returned Mordecai! Please come in.”

I gave the maid a winning smile and did as I was bid. She entered with me I knew she simply couldn’t bear the thought of me being in the bedroom alone with Rose. She probably thinks all men are beasts just waiting to get into a lady’s boudoir. Then I got my first look at Rose and my breath caught in my throat.

She was standing in front of a large window with the afternoon sun streaming in around her. Another woman was kneeling behind her with a mouthful of pins and performing some arcane ritual of feminine mystery upon the dress that Rose wore. The dress itself was breathtaking. It was constructed of yellow material and embroidered with pink roses. The hem was far too long for it to be a ball gown, without even considering the train. Train? My brain had frozen up, but my eyes continued to explore. The neckline was daring, but not scandalous, showing a graceful neck and hints of her shoulders. Topping it all were Rose’s dark curls, except that for once her hair wasn’t carefully arranged, or even brushed and loose, instead it had been gathered into an ungainly mop and tied or pinned to the top of her head.

Her eyes caught mine. “Well? What do you think?” she said with an almost girlish smile on her face.

I was frozen in place. The dress could be only one thing, a wedding dress. Knowing her family it had probably been worn by her mother or great grandmother and she was having it fitted. She was pleased by my shocked face. “I’ll take that look as a compliment,” she said at last.

My mouth worked as my mind tried to come up with some way to rescue what was already one of the most tragic moments I could imagine. “But he hasn’t even asked you yet…,” came the words from my mouth. Apparently that was the best I could manage.

Rose’s eyes darted to her maid and then to the woman pinning her dress, “Mistress Kenwick, now should be a good time for a break. Angela, would you mind taking Mistress Kenwick to the parlor for some refreshments? I’d like some privacy.”

Angela, the woman who had escorted me in, dipped her head and ushered the seamstress out. “I’ll just leave the door open milady,” she replied.

“Shut it please.”

Angela pursed her lips unhappily but did as she was told and then I was alone with Rose. I glanced at her again and started to say something but she was quicker and spoke first, “Father said he would be looking forward to meeting Dorian again, which is as close to giving his outright approval as I could expect. I don’t think it will be very long after that.”

“Still, this seems a bit sudden,” I said, floundering for better words.

Rose left the window and came over to greet me more warmly, putting her arms around my shoulders. “Relax Mordecai, I know it could be a year or longer even. I’ve been waiting years already; this is just a bit of fun. No sense in being caught unprepared after all.”

“Years?”

She stepped back and gave me a serious look. “Since his parents sent him to foster under my father’s tutelage.”

That had been years ago, when Dorian was a growing boy of just thirteen years I recalled. “He told me that he rarely spoke to you then.”

Rose laughed, “ He rarely spoke. I followed him about and teased him frequently. I had never met such a serious young man, nor one so easily embarrassed.” The memory put a sparkle in her eyes as she spoke.

I could tell by her mood she was ready to continue the story but I stopped her, “Rose.”

She grew still and her eyes searched my face carefully. Her euphoria had blinded her usual perceptiveness, but now her attention had focused fully upon me. In the span of a few seconds she read the sad tale written on my visage and I saw her own features darken. It was like watching rainclouds cover a previously sunny sky. “What happened?”

I had kept myself under control pretty well for the past two days but her simple question undid me. My eyes were watering as I looked away, “I don’t know how to say this Rose.”

Her voice hardened, “How bad is it?”

“They’re both dead Rose… Penny and Dorian both,” somehow I got the words out, though my heart felt like lead as I said them.

I had taken my gaze away from her but my magesight showed her clearly as she registered the dire news. An almost imperceptible shiver went through her frame, and then she became utterly still as if she were made of stone. For a long moment she didn’t move at all, not even to breathe, the only motion in her was that of her rapidly beating heart. When at last she did move it was a smooth graceful motion, as if she were focusing utterly on her walk.

She sat down on a small couch some fifteen feet away, facing the window. Her face was hidden from me, but I could sense that her eyes were closed when she spoke, “I’d like you to tell me what happened please, while I still have my composure.”

I couldn’t help but admire her reserve and I wished I had done half as well when I first found out. Slowly, carefully, I began the tale, leaving nothing out. If she was impatient for the important details I couldn’t tell, for she never interrupted me or uttered a single word.

Not until I was done and my story ground into an awkward silence did she finally speak again, “Thank you, Mordecai. That was well done.” She stood slowly and nodded in my direction. “This is still fresh news for me, if you don’t mind I think I’d like to be alone for a while.” She had hidden her hands in the folds of her dress but my magesight could still see them trembling.

I took a step in her direction, “Rose…”

“No Mordecai, please,” she interrupted. “You may call upon me tomorrow. I need some time to collect myself.” The trembling in her hands had moved on to become a more generalized tremor throughout her body.

Her conviction gave me pause and I considered leaving. It seemed a lot easier than facing the storm she held tightly shuttered behind her eyes. Then I remembered my own night, alone in my room, after I had nearly committed murder to quench my thirst for revenge, rather than face my own sorrow. I took several more steps toward her. You won’t face this alone.

“Please go, Mordecai. You don’t understand, that’s not how my family deals with things like this,” she spoke in a tone of command, but it was undermined by a sudden gut wrenching sob as her voice broke in mid-sentence. Her balance wavered and I caught her before she could fall.

“No Mordecai!” she screamed into my shirt. “That’s not how we do things!” She was crying as she yelled at me. “I’m a Hightower, we don’t mourn in front of others…,” she was sobbing and beating my chest at the same time.

I held onto her firmly, until her violence had lapsed into a more subdued weeping. “Then your family needs to find a better way,” I told her softly. She cried for an unknown span of time, and the afternoon shadows grew long and vanished into dusk before she had finished. Eventually she lapsed into silence and I simply held her and stroked her hair. Outside the sun had dropped below the roofline and the city seemed to be holding its breath in expectation of the night.

“I’d better return home,” I told her.

She nodded and I noticed her eyes were swollen and puffy. With her hair askew and her red face I couldn’t help but think it was the first time I had ever seen her so disheveled. Another day I might have laughed. She walked me to the door herself, while Angela watched disapprovingly. I couldn’t imagine what her maid-servant might be thinking.

As I stepped out she grabbed my hand, “Don’t go too far. I’ll be looking for you tomorrow. Make sure I can find you.”

“I need to find Marc still. He hasn’t heard the news.”

She released my hand. “I can help with that.”

I smiled weakly, “Tomorrow then.” I turned away and began walking back toward my own city home. The door closed behind me briefly before opening again.

“Mordecai,” she called.

I looked over my shoulder at the unkempt Lady Rose, peering from her door, “Yes?”

“Thank you,” she said and then she shut the door again.

I walked on, into the deepening dusk.

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