Chapter Sixty-Six: A Butler’s Gaze

  As they moved through the dimmed streets of Solvelis, the sound of footsteps echoed from beneath, creating a near-perfect rhythm between the pudgy merchant, the black gulper horse and the young girl of noble birth, who dutifully held the hand of the adult man as if he were her father.

  As time went on, the merchant led their horse through the increasing opulence by the reins. From timber homes with dimly lit interiors visible through neglected walls, to stone-bricked houses between abundance and scarcity.

  Then, finally, toward the city’s opulent, painted masonry on its west side.

  And there, just a stone’s throw away, were the fine metal gates surrounding the Eilsweth estate, green shrubbery around its perimeter, the faint light from the central manor and the darkened silhouettes of horticulture in the gardens illuminated only slightly by the lanterns adorned on its ground.

  Then the merchant released his grip on the girl.

  “This is where we must part. I will linger nearby until you are safe in the hands of your servants,” as he turned back towards the dark-haired, ocean-eyed girl.

  “I… I see…” Her head hung low as she paced behind the disguised mage, her steps slowing as the berth between them grew inch by inch, as the seconds passed.

  Then the sound of footsteps behind the merchant ceased.

  Selriph tightened the grip around the reins as he reacted to the immediate absence of the sound behind him, jerking his head back.

  A sense of unease caused the girl to clench her fist, while his jaw moved restlessly as she stood with her head bowed low, her elegant attire torn and tattered.

  “Leian…? Is something the matter?” Selriph’s voice took on a fatherly tone, a result of the arcane manipulations to his physique as much as genuine concern on his part.

  “I know you said you’d only accompany me to the estate, but… can’t you stay with us? At least for the night?” Leian spoke in a low voice, almost a whisper, as uncertainty coloured her tone.

  No, anything but this… I cannot afford to be distracted, especially…

  Selriph looked toward the merchant’s cart on his left, where he could barely perceive some shifting beneath the leather tarp.

  One of the many complications made Leian’s heartfelt request all but unacceptable.

  “I cannot afford to be seen with you—not with our present company.” Selriph’s words were firm, yet carried a tinge of regret, brought about by the ocean eyes that stared back at him.

  “I know... it’s just...” Leian said, her eyes drawn to the side of her sockets, landing on the blood-stained merchant cart, which resembled the one employed by her abductors days earlier.

  Unreadable thoughts churned in her head.

  “I will not be welcome at your estate. Neither my current guise nor my true face.” Selriph turned to look at the manor at the far end of the street, then back to the girl.

  “You will be. I will not mention a word to Mother; we have a spare room!” protest rose in her voice, threatening to spill into the street.

  “Why are you so insistent on this…?” The pudgy face that Selriph bore tilted in abject curiosity.

  “Be…because it’s safer with you.” Her jaw clenched as the blue in her eyes swirled, a soft static from pushing against the suppressing veil around their persons.

  “No, you won’t. My presence brings more danger than you realise.” The pudgy hands tightened around his satchel, his mind drifting to the bounty notice inside—a quick means of silencing her protest, if presented.

  Selriph shook his head, deciding against revealing too much to a girl he planned to part with in mere moments.

  His response came tinged with formality. “You will not require me. Lady Eilsweth surely has her own agenda to ensure your safety. I scarcely believe she will allow you to be taken again.”

  A thought began to burrow out of the depths of his mind as the words left his mouth—they only held a half-truth.

  Driven by a singular point: Selriph didn’t know the specifics of how she ended up abducted—he never asked, but he knew a simple fact.

  Whoever initiated her abduction would certainly make a play for her again.

  He knew deep down that there was no guarantee she would be safe while in her mother’s care.

  But there was no room for him to ponder that—he had to prioritise his escape to the border.

  For he was a wanted fugitive himself, and experience had taught him that indulging in distractions such as this yielded nothing positive for his perilous escape thus far. The woman in the rapids, the woodsman and his ill-fated expedition, along with the elven twins and their foolish play for an old mage’s invention.

  The rational choice was to defer the woes and plight of this girl before him to someone else. At least they would bear the responsibility for keeping her safe—regardless of their success or failure.

  “Leian, I am sorry, but that is my final decision. Now, please don’t make this any harder for us.” He turned towards Nightwind, ready to guide the horse down a side alley, where he intended to watch the girl’s return to the estate from afar.

  Silence blanketed the cold streets of Solvelis for a while; the faint rustle from the shrubs on the noble estate and the flutter of light flies around the lanterns, along with the soft pacing of the pudgy merchant, were the only backdrop in the stillness.

  Then the girl clenched her fist once more, as she willed herself one last appeal—if it could even be described as such.

  “At least … claim your payment,” she said, her eyes filled with a conviction that belied the strangeness of her words.

  “Pardon…?” Selriph’s brows arched at the unexpected statement as he turned back to the girl.

  “You need coin, don’t you?” she asked, glancing at the goods in the cart, intended for the markets of Solvelis come morning.

  “Yes, but I do not require payment for that act; it will only complicate things.” Selriph shook his head.

  “Please, Sel, allow us to repay your kindness with something.”

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  Selriph gestured with his chubby arms to the cart. “Look, Leian, even if I wanted to take your offer, Emmett—”

  Leian interjected, her usual formality cracking as emotion rose in her voice... “You will not need to set into the estate grounds. Just accompany me to the gate. Reggel, our butler, will bring you payment.”

  Selriph paused; any disagreement was stifled by the modicum of sensibility in the girl’s proposal, but also taken aback by the insistence to repay his ‘charitable’ actions.

  This… there isn’t an overt risk as long as Emmett stays docile…

  He felt his hands over this pouch, his mind running through the funds he currently possessed—barely enough to cover the cost of a stable and a large enough room for tonight in Solvelis.

  It cannot hurt acquire more funds, especially if I want to procure another invisibility draught, but…

  Selriph paced over to the cart. No movement stirred except for the faint rise and fall of the tarp—the dire wolf’s breathing.

  In that case…

  Then he turned back to the girl.

  “Fine, I, merchant Jorin, humbly accept—I respectfully request the young lady refer to me as such until I collect your generous offer.” As Selriph bowed to the lady,

  Her cheeks flushed faintly, the silk of her skirts soft against her fingers as she returned the bow.

  Before pacing down the street, a lightness in her step as the merchant, her rescuer, followed her to the gates of the Eilsweth estate.

  “Stay put, friend, this won’t take long,” Selriph said in his hushed, magically altered voice, low with age. He softly patted the leather tarp that concealed his dire wolf.

  His instructions were met with a bare shuffle under the leather and a low growl—which sounded more like concurrence than disagreement—if Selriph’s interpretation of the wolf’s inflection reflected any level of accuracy.

  He then looked at the towering gates in front of him, which were approximately three meters high, with gold embroidery depicting a dragon’s head and a lion’s head in the centre. On either side, pillars, a pale beige, displayed carvings that ascended and then vanished.

  Then he looked at the girl, giving her a silent nod.

  Leian then turned and reached for the brass pull she stood by. With a vocalised tug, the chain clinked faintly as a distant bell’s ring echoed from within the lit interior of the two-story building on the estate.

  Seconds passed as Selriph could almost make out the shifting of shadows in one of the windows of the lower study. In that moment, he placed a finger on his face and his belly, swollen with excess. Arcane energy rather than adipose tissue.

  Then he glanced back at the merchant cart—unmoving, with his ‘mercantile goods’.

  Just play the part, get payment and do not entangle or implicate yourself in any way.

  As he turned back, he heard the distant creaking of the front door as a figure emerged with a lantern, pacing in cautious steps towards them.

  As the distance closed, a middle-aged man in a black formal suit, with a thin blade hanging by his side, came into view, his glasses reflecting the light. His hair was trimmed short and neatly, and his face was framed by a meticulously groomed beard.

  The figure called out as he approached the gate, “Who visits at this hour? Lady Eilsweth is not due for—”

  He stopped in his tracks as his eyes landed on the young girl, who stood in a formal pose in front of the grills of the estate gate.

  The butler flinched at the sound, his hand instinctively moving towards his blade. “Lady Leian, how are you still—” he began, then shook his head, his fingers instead reaching for the keys on the other side of his belt.

  Selriph’s right brow furrowed down as he noted the butler’s composed, rehearsed movements—one that he had seen in his own experience as a son of the Daryth family—become embellished with nervous haste as he unlocked the gates.

  Then the eyes behind the glasses met his as he turned the lock, reading him, as if trying to recognise the face.

  Of course, it did not bear the face of a wanted fugitive or anyone that he expected, for that matter.

  Which made his next move after he unlocked the gate, something that Selriph had already rehearsed.

  He bowed to Leian as the gates opened, then he drew his sword and began walking towards the chubby merchant who stood behind the girl who had been considered abducted and missing.

  Yet, before the expectant suspicion bellowed, there was almost a moment of hesitation, as he held the lantern up to the face of the pudgy merchant, reading its features before he continued.

  “You! Explain your presence here with Lady Leian!” he raised the rapier towards Selriph.

  “Reggel, please. Jorin brought me back safely, and I ask you to refrain from speaking to him in such a hostile tone,” the young girl said, her High Eldeitian voice oddly formal and assertive to Selriph.

  “Peace, friend. I am but a humble merchant that chanced upon the young lady in the woods south of the city.” As Selriph bowed respectfully, though lacking the fine adornments of noble etiquette, one with which ‘Jorin’ would not be familiar.

  “You chanced upon her? Why not turn her over to the guards? And what of the mercenaries and the theurgist who abducted her? How could someone of your stature best them?” As his eyes scanned the overweight person in front of him, his expression contorted in confusion.

  As expected thus far… the right thing to say here is…

  Selriph inhaled as he allowed his rehearsed answer past his lips. “Found them slaughtered by the beast of the woods,” as he gestured to the cart and the bloodstains on it, which now served to bolster his testimony.

  The butler’s unease was palpable as he continued forward, his gaze flitting nervously from Leian to ‘Jorin.’ “No. No simple beast could overwhelm them. And even so, how is my lady in one piece? Why are there no signs of her affliction?!”

  Selriph paused; a sinking feeling coalesced in his gut. Not from the brimming suspicion from the butler—that was within expectation.

  What wasn’t within expectations, however, was the intimate knowledge he seemed to possess that the band had abducted the girl. In particular, the direct reference to the theurgist, who had supposedly only joined them after the abduction, at least if Selriph had interpreted the exchange before their slaughter with any degree of accuracy.

  This, along with the almost incredulous undertone of his reaction to them being bested by a beast of the forest.

  Then he glanced past the blade, brandished mere steps away from him, to the girl, her posture tense with unease as she looked at the butler.

  This… am I overthinking this?

  His query poured forth, uninhibited by temperance.

  “You speak of her abductees with familiarity. How did you manage to uncover their identities?” Selriph’s voice, a practised blend of mercantile charm and a sharp, accusatory undertone, cut through the air.

  At the corner of Selriph’s vision, Leian’s eyes widened, although not entirely with surprise—there was almost the faintest, imperceptible nod.

  Or perhaps it was nothing more than the nervous twitch of a frightened girl, lost for words and unable to muster the a means to defuse the rising tension between her butler and the person who rescued her.

  The butler lowered his rapier as he unfurled his sleeve, revealing lesions on his forearms.

  “Those were not brigands. They bested me and slaughtered the company we had to accompany young Leian. How could someone like you chance upon her after a mere mindless beast bested her abductors?” as he raised his rapier back up to him.

  Damn… I wasn’t expecting him to be intimately familiar with the band. Coincidence or otherwise, how do I explain this?

  He glanced at Leian, who remained silent, her hands tied in tension.

  Should I draw on her words to convince him? No…she was indisposed when I rescued her. Not to mention the arcane means I used to subdue the effects of her sight…

  “Answer me, gold-glimmer. Or I have to assume you are aligned with those that abducted my young lady—that this is a ploy to extract coin,” as he took a step closer towards Selriph.

  Selriph shuffled back to the merchant cart, his hand hovering over his estoc.

  This isn’t good. I could attempt to prove my skills with the blade … but that would cause a commotion. If the guards come upon us now…

  The protective butler took another step. Selriph gripped his estoc.

  No… There has to be another way!

  Before the merchant could muster his next attempt at placation, a sound broke the tension.

  An incredibly unwelcome noise, given the circumstances.

  The rumbling growl from the merchant’s cart mixed with the rustle of leather behind him.

  The butler, as though he’d seen a night wraith, recoiled from the cart, his eyes betraying a terror that widened with each step.

  Selriph turned back, a reprimand already boiling to his lips at the only sight that could explain the butler’s reaction.

  The dire wolf loomed over the merchant cart, its fangs bared, a low growl rumbling through the streets, threatening to jolt the resting folks safe within the walls of their residences.

  Selriph approached the cart, pacing past the nightly steed, whose irises followed with deadpan amusement—if the horse was capable of such a thing.

  The merchant’s arm gestured in a frantic attempt to conceal the now exposed dire wolf. “Emmett! You crazy mutt, I told you to stay put. Of all the times to—!”

  An interjection came from behind him.

  Not from a guard, nor the butler, nor a bystander that somehow chanced upon this curious sight of a wolf staring down a butler with a merchant frantically attempting to cover it once more with a tarp.

  But the young noble girl spoke with a voice that was an indescribable mix of confidence, pride, and reprimand.

  “Reggel, stand down. I present the noble beast that bested my kidnappers.”

  Selriph turned back, his face first in confusion at the words from Leian, before it relaxed into knowing understanding.