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Chapter 22: Renfont Manor, Day (3)
🕑 Added 2022-05-23 21:25:57 +0000 UTCI heard the sound of laughter emanating from the dining room before I even stepped inside.
As the door swung open, I nodded in thanks to the well-endowed maid who held it out for me. For a moment, she blinked in surprise, then fell into a roguish smile.
I quickly hurried past, all the while wondering whether this one had been Mila, Libby or Jenny.
“It was my first time wearing armour,” said Baron Renfont, his tone humorous as he regally sat at the end of his table. “Enchanted black steel, head to toe. A fabulous work encompassing the very best of runecraft and sigil making, crafted by a blacksmith whose name was never divulged … and also as ghastly in appearance as the foulest knights under the Demon King's employ. When I felt the goblins jump on me, I thought the next thing I'd feel is a dagger worming through the gorget. Instead, they were simply riding me.”
Sitting by the Baron's side was Iris and Magnus, reacting with different levels of politeness as the man hosting us spoke. Iris giggled like a nobleman's daughter at a function, while Magnus slapped his palm on the table to accompany his laughter. The maids in the room visibly jumped each time the precious tableware rattled.
And yet I almost didn't notice.
I was too busy looking at Iris and Magnus.
Unlike yesterday, where they'd sat opposite the table, they were seated beside each other.
I paused as I felt something inside me drop.
It was a small thing. The smallest thing. And yet I couldn't help but wonder why Iris had chosen to seat herself next to Magnus. He was closest to the baron, so she'd clearly chosen to sit down after him. Did she deliberately choose to sit next to him, knowing that I'd notice? Or was this something she did without thinking?
In the end, it likely had no meaning. Casual seating arrangements were hardly the type of thing we busied ourselves over. And yet I couldn't help but notice that as I went to take my seat opposite the table, that at this time, this very moment, I was further from Iris than Magnus was.
“The goblins believed I was one of their leaders,” added the baron. “Why, it appears that riding the backs of their knights are how their favoured soldiers are accustomed to travelling. In the end, I was carrying the goblins like a pack mule. That was when I knew that the adventuring life was not for me.”
Magnus slapped the table again, bellowing in laughter. A clear noise of sharp cutlery bouncing against plates could be heard.
I almost groaned, but not for the plates. I was dismayed at seeing that Magnus had somehow risen before me. And also the fact that much of the lunch fare appeared to have been eaten.
A look towards the stack of plates by Magnus's side told me who the cause of this was. It was a minor scene of devastation. Crumbs and half-eaten pastries built like a small hilltop between glasses of wine. Lots of wine.
For a moment, I thought about whether or not it was worth commenting on him indulging so early in the morning. And then I realised it wasn't morning at all. It was afternoon now.
I felt even more dismay.
At least until Iris turned her head to me as I silently took my seat.
There were few things her welcoming smile couldn't cure. The sight of Magnus wasn't one of them. But at least she lessened the guilt I felt regarding how long I'd taken to join her.
In truth, I could have been down here within minutes of her leaving me. After all, it didn't take long for the memories that Iris gave me to work its magic. But shame had purposefully stalled me coming here. Even if it was utterly irrelevant, I wanted to at least pretend that I could hold out for more than a few minutes before I gave in while watching Iris's lewd acts.
“That's goblins for you,” said Magnus, who as expected hadn't bothered to turn my way. “They're both cowards and fearless. Won't fight me unless there are twenty of them, and they each have their own pike. But they won't hesitate to swipe food from even under the Demon King's jaw.”
Baron Renfont nodded. He dabbed his lips with a handkerchief, even though I didn't spy a single crumb on the plate before him.
“I would argue that speaks more about the Demon King's lack of requisitions than his minions bravery. It takes courage to charge a hero as famed as yourself, whereas it only require hunger to steal food. One is far more common than the other. And I suspect that is how the Demon King prefers it.”
Magnus frowned. It was an ugly sight to go with any meal of the day.
“You think he wants his minions taking food from his table?”
“Perhaps not from his own. But certainly from somebody's. So long as his foot soldiers are unable to see to their own sustenance, the Demon King has uncontested control over their actions and movements. A healthy dose of backhanded stealing ensuring ingrained distrust among his soldiers also helps to prevent large internal threats to his rule.”
I wasn't sure what their conversation had begun as, but to the baron's latest words, I could only agree.
The Demon King hadn't managed to solidify power by mere brute force alone. There was an economy of sorts among his provinces. His armies. And by the rough accounts I'd heard from passing soldiers and adventurers, it wasn't his personal strength that they feared, but rather his skilled leadership.
Then again, I suppose that those that tested his strength weren't alive to talk about it.
I looked at Iris, querying silently about what I had missed. She responded with a subtle shake of her head. Nothing important. Good.
While I trusted Iris to be able to complete any negotiations in my stead, I also trusted Magnus to somehow make a mess of things while I wasn't there. It was only fortunate for him that our latest clients appeared humoured by his antics.
I wondered if that would continue to be the case if he ended up breaking some of the tableware.
“Yeah, sounds like the Demon King,” said Magnus, as casually as if they were buddies. “Bastard to his enemies. Bastard to his allies. Day I get to shove my halberd through his belly, I won't offer a prayer.”
The baron raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? You intend to personally slay the Demon King?”
“With black steel if I could.” Magnus pulled out a disgustingly confident grin. Whether it was a feature depended on if the person looking at it was friend or foe. Sometimes it didn't matter. “Don't wear much armour, otherwise.”
“Interesting. Is the added encumbrance the reason you forgo the use of armour on the battlefield?”
“Weight's not an issue. It's the fit.”
“Indeed, I'd imagine that finding suitably fitting armour is difficult for a man of your stature. It would certainly not be inexpensive.”
“Cost ain't a problem, either,” said Magnus, causing the girl beside him to immediately raise a very inquiring and very deadly smile. “Might be less picky if I had a suit of black steel, though. Didn't know any of that stuff was still around.”
Baron Renfont paused for a moment, studying Magnus keenly.
“It is. Should the right questions be made. And the right guarantees be tabled.”
I winced. I readied myself to intrude, not wishing Magnus to purchase a suit of armour he didn't have enough lifetimes to pay for.
Instead, I watched as Magnus leaned back in his chair, a new glass of wine in his hand and an even newer confidence brimming in his smile.
“Tell anyone with a suit of black armour that if they give it to me, I'll give them a choice of any item from the Demon King's own hoard after I put him down. That should be enough.”
A moment of silence passed.
But not because Magnus had said anything grotesquely inappropriate. Rather, because the answer he gave was enough. And surprisingly succinct.
An item of choice from the Demon King's own hoard would undoubtedly dwarf the value of any suit of black steel, enchanted or not. It was, naturally, as big a gamble as you could make. But not one that would be ignored by every ear to hear it.
Magnus would know that. As would the well-connected baron who'd just heard it.
Sometimes, I forgot that Magnus was more than muscles. He wasn't much more. But he still had a mind for defeating his enemies. And that usually came in useful at the right times.
“I shall bear that in mind,” said Baron Renfont, nodding towards his chief steward, who then silently departed from the room. “But let us not discuss the blight that is the Demon King today. There are closer troubles at home, even if the good people of Blackrose appear keen to ignore both.”
At last, Baron Renfont turned his genial smile towards me. He looked less like a cut-throat businessman and more a kindly grandfather.
I wondered how long it had taken for him to master that guise.
“The hero of the hour arrives,” he said kindly. “I hope you slept well after your gruelling night?”
Opposite the table, Iris smiled sweetly at me. Again, I thought about the fact she was seated closely beside the man who'd spent the night claiming her.
“I did, thank you. The comforts of your guest rooms are beyond anything I have experienced.”
“That is most excellent to hear. There are more amenities to be had, of course. And I hope you'll be able to experience them before you leave. But for now, I see that we are assembled. Shall we discuss the details of your next commission, should you feel inclined to hear it?”
I nodded.
In that moment, I felt the atmosphere in the room change.
It was time to begin negotiations once again.
~ ~ ~
It was a given that Baron Renfont wasn't uncouth enough to throw us out of his grounds the moment we had completed his task. But none of us were under any impression that this continued courtesy would last any longer than if we indicated we had finished with our business in Blackrose.
Fortunately for the baron, our business was coin, and he was in a position to grant it.
Ironically, the amount we'd acquired from his simple but niche task of utilising the phoenix goblet meant we were now in a better position to negotiate our fees. But while I'm sure that many adventurers would have fallen prey to his easy demeanour and generous hospitality, I did not forget that he was a baron of Blackrose, the City of Fortune.
And in this city, that fortune wasn't merely earned. It was acquired.
Judging by the outline of the next commission, we were going to witness just how some of that acquisition occurred around here.
“An auction?”
I politely repeated the baron's words.
As I did so, I nibbled a bite of … something that the maids had brought before me. Even after several bites, I wasn't certain which food group it belonged to.
It did, however, taste splendid.
“Indeed,” said the baron. “An auction is to take place tonight, visited by only the most distinguished families and enterprising individuals of this fair city. I would have you anonymously represent me, and use my funds to exact the winning bid.”
I couldn't believe it.
I had braced myself for all the combination of horrors that the baron could have unleashed as a request. Certainly, after the gentle task that was utilising a phoenix goblet, I didn't expect something that could have been even simpler.
By all accounts, this was something we couldn't fail.
My suspicions were on full alert, although I didn't know what to look for. Such was my doubt, that for the first time since arriving in this stately home, I wondered how out of depth I actually was.
I put down the … thing I was eating, then let out a small cough.
“Excuse me, Baron. Did I hear correctly? … You wish for us to take part in an auction, and to simply use the funds you'll be providing to bid for an item?”
“That is indeed correct.”
I waited, expecting more.
Nothing came.
“That is … an unusual request,” I said delicately. “And not at all what I expected. If I may ask, do you not have any number of sufficiently trusted staff at your disposal to perform this task? Although it's improper to already speak about remuneration, we would still demand a fee for our time.”
The baron chuckled. It appeared he was enjoying my obvious confusion.
If he didn't, he would have explained himself already.
“I would trust any member of my household with my life. This, fortunately, is unlikely to require such a grave sacrifice. It does, however, still require the presence of a hero.”
“Is that so?” I replied, now even more cautious.
The baron nodded.
“It is not enough to merely win the item. Particularly as many distinguished families will be there. If an attempt was made to win the item through sheer coin alone, I fear that … accidents might occur.”
“Accidents.”
“Indeed. The type to only come about from nobles with enough coin to arrange accidents, but not enough to win an extremely costly item. It would be preferable if a group of heroes were to purchase the item in question. Less … unintended consequences would be had should a sufficient deterrent be present.”
Security, then.
Relief flooded through me. In the end, he wanted muscle. Just muscle.
That was a lot easier to understand, even if he attempted to use more fanciful language. He wanted hired brawn, while simultaneously preserving anonymity by withholding his own guards.
“I see. And what manner of item is it that you would like us to obtain?”
“Is having that knowledge pertinent to accepting this task?”
I creased my eyebrows. It was back to being suspicious.
“It would. As heroes, we must conduct ourselves in the knowledge that we have the optics of the kingdom upon us. For that reason, we cannot accept purchasing an item that has any possibility of …”
The baron held up his palm. For the first time, his genial smile hardened, and a steely look appeared in his eyes.
“I am aware of the burdens that weigh upon heroes. Allow me to assure you, that I would not ask of you anything that would bring disrepute to your names.”
I politely dipped my head.
“I would never suggest such a thing. I merely wish to prevent anything which could encourage the rise of misunderstandings. Indeed, the act alone of bidding in a Blackrose auction is likely to raise eyebrows.”
For a moment, I wondered if the baron would seek to defend the honour of his city. And then he gave a small sigh of acknowledgement.
“Of that, I cannot deny. However, you will be well compensated for your time. And the item I wish for is no source of evil. Allow me to assure you that in the name of my House, I have received guarantees to such an effect.”
I cocked my head slightly.
“Guarantees?”
“Regrettably, I do not know what the item in question is.”
I looked at my companions in turn. Magnus shrugged, which as usual made up most of his opinions outside of fighting, whoring and gambling. Iris was more expressive. She pursed her lips, her brows narrowing in obvious hesitation at how this conversation was quickly progressing.
“I, myself, am acting as intermediary. A source of great influence within the kingdom wishes me to obtain the item on their behalf. I know nothing about it, other than it is a treasure of some worth, and will be the last item of the evening. It is veiled in considerable secrecy.”
I waited a few extra heartbeats before answering.
“This secrecy is unnecessary. Why make the identity of this … object hidden even to potential buyers?”
“The secrecy alone is guaranteed to garner considerable interest, and with it, bring in a host of influential names. Great expectations rarely fail to deliver in Blackrose's deeper auctions. Such is the way of the wind, I expect records to be broken tonight.”
I kept my frown to a minimum as I turned again to my companions. Magnus yawned, which if I had the choice was what I'd gladly get from him. Iris placed her hand to her chest and nodded. She would trust me in anything I would do.
I took in a deep breath. There were more questions to ask. But on the face of it, this was a difficult request to turn down by the sheer amount of ease it offered, even if that was certain to be misplaced.
“We will need guarantees. Should the item in question not be appropriate for us to bid on, we will reserve the right to abandon the commission at no cost.”
“Acceptable,” said the baron at once, smile returning. “You've nought to lose from this endeavour.”
Now there was a line likely to make me turn tail.
Still, I sat back and nodded. Details aside, the hardest part to come was now the haggling.
The baron, likely knowing this, clicked his fingers.
Multiple maids sprung forwards at his call. I expected them to fill the table with food and drink. Instead, they swiftly congregated around Iris.
“H-Huh?”
Iris blinked, her cool demeanour broken by the bizarreness of suddenly being surrounded by so many frilly skirts.
In barely a few blinks, she now found herself surrounded on all sides by maids. Magnus used the opportunity to look at the neckline of the maid who'd stuffed herself between their two chairs.
“My apologies, Lady Iris,” said the baron, his weathered smile now taking on a much younger hue. “However, there is a strict dress code that all must adhere to. Even adventurers.”
“Excuse me?” she replied, entirely bewildered. “A dress code?”
“The auction isn't for several hours yet. However, as my maids are quite meticulous in how they present themselves and others, it would be wise if the fitting was to begin as soon as possible.”
“A fitting … why would I need--”
“It is a time honoured tradition in this city. Formal functions cannot be attended without exact care to the city's dress standards.”
“That's … but what about these two?” she said at once, looking for salvation at mostly me.
“I believe that special dispensation may be offered to the male members of your party, in order that they be better able to dispense their duties should any unsavoury accidents occur. Regrettably, those of the fairer sex are given substantially less leeway.”
“That is-- That is absurd!”
“Indeed, it is. As a liberal man, myself, I believe this is an outdated process not in keeping with the progressive views of gender equality that modern society endeavours to strive for. And yet it is this archaic view which I am sadly forced to follow. But your companions can, should they choose to, don the many examples of formal attire I'm able to offer. It will involve the wearing of a colourful bow tie, however.”
The silence was deafening.
Neither of us said anything.
Iris's jaw opened, betrayal reflecting in her eyes as the maids proceeded to lift her from her chair.
“I'm-- wait. I'm-- I'm the Sword Princess. You cannot just--”
“Yes,” said Baron Renfont, nodding with sudden vigour. “The Sword Princess. It would be remiss if you were to attend such a prestigious gathering wearing anything less than what your beauty and high standing deserves.”
And just like that, Iris was whisked away, practically handcuffed by the maids as she not at all willingly allowed herself to be sent off to be fitted in some vast wardrobe somewhere.
Even after she was swept out of the room, I could hear her cries of anguish echoing down a distant corridor.
Likely, there would be a price to pay for this betrayal. But I knew it would only come after I saw Iris in whatever formal attire the maids dressed her in.
And that, I think, is a price worth paying.
Baron Renfont coughed, grabbing my attention once more.
“Apologies for that. When it comes to respecting matters of tradition, proper expedience must be adhered.”
“Of course.”
“Then, let us continue our discussions.” Baron Renfont sat up straighter, reminding us of his position in these talks. “Once they are completed to your satisfaction, you may depart the grounds and enjoy the pleasures and sights of the city. Alternatively, you may enjoy the continued hospitality of my estate. Either way, I will send for my staff to escort you to the auction site at the due time.”
“I understand … And it would be quite late, I take it?”
“Quite so.”
I nodded. It was going to be another long night, then.
“I see. Where will the site of this auction be, then? Somewhere within the trade district?”
Baron Renfont paused for a moment, before smiling amicably.
“Why … where all the deeds of secrecy are done and exchanged, dear hero.”
I could almost hear it before he said it.
“You are to head to the deepest heart of the Red Light District.”
