The Intrigues Of Arcadia, page 4
part #4 of The Monster Of Selkirk Series
“She just didn’t act like the other servants I’ve dealt with. Colben’s right; she’s hiding something. Makes me think she’ll cheat us or…I don’t know,” Rosslyn whispered in case Matylda was trying to eavesdrop from the other side of the door.
“She’s a Noble Household servant, Roz. If she was trying to convince us to help her while trying to protect this Lord Izaak, well, I can see why she’d appear dishonest,” Tallis said, ruffling Colben’s curly hair in a way that reminded Rosslyn of how Donovan used to treat Tallis.
Rosslyn thought for a moment. “How did she find you, Tomas?”
“I was returning from the monastery with Colben. She approached us on our way back and wanted to know if we were part of Hanner Pobl. It was all very routine, Rosslyn. She hadn’t been following us on the way to morning service or spying on us, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Tomas patiently answered.
Rosslyn was about to respond when Tomas cut her off. “It would be wise of us to take this contract. Colben confirms if she is hiding something, it does not pertain to the task her lord has for us. I suspect that this will be an easy case to conclude and could win us a favor or two from another Noble, which will not hurt in the long run. Radoslaw is but an hour’s journey from Ludwik by horse, and if Izaak is here for the Mettling, then we should be able to get what we need from him and settle our business before the next match tomorrow.”
“He’s got a point, Roz. And, if something goes wrong tomorrow, as you keep reminding me it could, this’ll help continue our goal of getting what we need so we can go home. If you’re suspicious of Matylda, just make sure you don’t leave her alone with anything you value,” Tallis said with a wink.
Rosslyn rolled her eyes. “All right, we’ll take the contract. You’ll need to change into something a little more inspiring if we’re to meet with this lord, Tally.”
Tallis groaned. “Fine, I’ll go put on the ceremonial armor.”
After Tallis left but before going into the entryway to tell Matylda the good news, Rosslyn grasped Colben by the hand and tugged him away from Tomas. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to tell me about this servant, Colben?”
Colben squinted at her. “No? I don’t know what else there is. Only that you had the same reaction when you first saw her that she had when she first met Tomas.”
Rosslyn pressed her lips into a fine line before whispering, “And what was that?”
“You both think the other is pretty, or handsome. Like the way Tomas thinks Tallis is pretty all the time but not how you think Tallis is pretty. I don’t understand how you can—”
Rosslyn paled and clasped a hand over Colben’s mouth. “I don’t know what Tallis or Tomas has told you yet about men, women, love, and desire, Colben. Now, under no circumstances are you to tell Matylda or the others, got it?” Rosslyn glanced at Tomas to be sure he had not overheard.
Rosslyn lowered her hand slowly and Colben opened his mouth to speak, most likely to ask Rosslyn more questions, but she just squeezed his shoulder and brought her finger up to her lips. “Not. A. Word. And besides, just because Matylda’s striking doesn’t mean I don’t think she’s hiding something. I do and she is, so let’s just focus on that instead.”
Colben nodded before going back to Tomas’s side. Tomas looked from Colben to Rosslyn with a questioning arch of his eyebrow, but did not say anything. Tomas was still a little uncertain on how to talk to Rosslyn when Tallis was not around. It wasn’t that Rosslyn made him uncomfortable, even though being raised in a monastery for nearly twenty years meant that Tomas’s ideals and her Sipsi ways were often at odds. His dislike of her type of sarcasm meant that Tomas was constantly putting his foot in his mouth when talking to Rosslyn, something she found immensely entertaining.
Rosslyn turned away from Tomas and opened the door to where Matylda stood patiently waiting. “We’ll take your case. Give us a moment. Tallis needed to change into something a bit more appropriate for dealing with a lord.”
“And you did not share her view, Mistress Rosslyn?” Matylda asked.
“Oi! What’s that supposed to mean? I’ll have you know this dress cost more than the ship fare across the sea,” Rosslyn scoffed.
Matylda smiled thinly. “It is lovely quality, Mistress Rosslyn. I only meant that you have already entertained a Servant in such attire. Most Arcadian women would elect a more glamorous, if conservative, approach when meeting a lord after dealing with his Servant.”
“I’m not an Arcadian. I’m a proud Sipsi of Selkirk, and your lord will see me as I am or not at all,” Rosslyn fumed.
“You are certainly not an Arcadian. I doubt anyone who gazes upon you would ever forget that.”
Before Rosslyn could give a witty retort, Tallis reentered the room with Tomas following in her wake. It was hard to keep to her train of thought when Tomas and Tallis entered a room looking like a battle queen and her consort.
Tallis’s ceremonial armor was more functional than the armor Rosslyn had originally tried to get her to wear when they’d first arrived in Arcadia; it was not plated in gold and jewels nor did it have the impractical chest guard of typical women’s ceremonial armor. The armor Tallis had chosen instead could be used in battle if the need arose.
She wore a long, form-fitting leather dress that ended at her shins. Like Rosslyn’s own skirt, Tallis’s dress opened in the front, revealing black, double padded, tight leather trousers tucked into tall black boots with silver laces tied up under her knees.
The dress was comprised of two different types of hides, each dyed in a different color. The over layer was a supple, black leather that had been meticulously burnished during its crafting to the point where the leather shone naturally without additional polishing. Under that was a heavier leather dyed a light purple to match the common bellflower that grew in the mountains around Arcadia. The black leather that made up Tallis’s skirt was cut in the familiar swallowtail fashion in the front, showcasing the purple underneath.
Two black and silver belts rested across Tallis’s waist. Suspended from several silver links dangling from the belt were Tallis’s deadly, trident-shaped daggers. Her bodice mimicked the under-bust corsets Rosslyn was so fond of, with several large, silver buttons keeping the bodice closed.
Just under Tallis’s chest, three black leather straps were attached with a large silver buckle at their center. Connected at the buckle were thick swaths of black leather that arched up and created a deep, plunging neckline. The black leather continued upwards until it formed solid shoulder pauldrons and a high neckline, which both protected Tallis and elongated her neck. Under these swaths, the bellflower purple leather began once again. The effect was to create a diamond shape of bare skin on Tallis’s chest, framed by black and purple, in the absence of any extraneous jewels.
To protect her otherwise bare arms, Tallis wore gold, scale-like chainmail over her forearms. This still left half her arm naked, but it protected her in the areas closest to where she could be wielding and deflecting weapon strikes.
Beyond the gold of the chainmail, the silver buttons, buckles, and thread used on the armor, Tallis’s only jewelry was her customary necklace that held her mother’s wedding ring, Tomas’s pendant, and the engagement ring. Even without jewels, Tallis glimmered, as her diamond blonde, wavy hair glowed like fire over the dark armor.
Tomas, Rosslyn noted, also had not changed his attire to meet Lord Izaak. Still, he always managed to compliment whatever Tallis wore, negating the necessity for him to either dress up or down depending on where they were going. The black velvet, cog-shaped swirls over the royal blue, silk waistcoat he wore made his dark green eyes stand out, giving him a regal air, despite a lack of expensive gems or silver buttons.
Over his broad chest, he wore a white shirt buttoned high on his neck with a royal blue cravat tucked into a black velvet vest that matched the fabric of the cogs on his coat. He tucked his shirt into form-fitting black trousers that showcased his strong legs; black velvet pinstripes raced up them, making him appear even taller than he already was.
Rosslyn cleared her throat, breaking the wide-eyed stare the servant was giving Tomas. “Well, now that we’re all here, shall we be off?”
Matylda dipped her head and clasped her hands behind her back. “I would be honored to escort you. Lord Izaak should have returned from the Mettling by now.”
Soundlessly, Matylda led them from the estate and down the narrow street to where the road opened into a large market square. The square was full of Merchant, Smith, Artisan, and Farmer castes as they tried to sell items or buy new supplies.
The varying caste members mingled freely, addressing each other based on their caste and rank. Each group using a slight emphasis to their titles Rosslyn found curious. Had Rosslyn not seen the formal way some members addressed each other, the square wouldn’t have looked any different from any market in Selkirk or Theda. With the Ludwik nobles at the Mettling, the square squirmed with jovial activity from all those who were not allowed to attend such events.
Matylda led them around the square and up another narrow street lined with tall, branching pink, purple, and yellow flowers. Unfortunately, the blooms failed to mask the smell of refuse and the lye soap servants used to keep the nobles’ houses clean from the muck that washed down the street during the frequent fall rains.
Rosslyn found herself crinkling her nose in distaste as the breeze carried the smell down the street towards the group. If Matylda noticed the smell, she hid it expertly as she continued up the road.
Matylda stopped in front of a brick manor that towered over the shorter wooden buildings flanking it. The building was decorated with murals—bright orange, red, blue, and yellow flowers with big green leaves were painted around all the windows and the front door. She glanced up at the windows, taking note of which had their copper-colored shutters opened or closed. Coming to a decision, Matylda beckoned the group up the paved steps. “Lord Izaak is within. Please follow and allow me to announce you to his Noble Household.”
“Lead the way.” Rosslyn glanced past Matylda, appreciating the large door behind her with its etchings of prowling wolves decorating it from top to bottom.
Matylda dipped her head. Her dark blonde bun of hair wobbled once more as she did so. Quietly, she opened the door and ushered them into a large sitting room that had a robust fire roaring away in a marble fireplace.
“May I offer you a refreshment while you wait for Lord Izaak?” Matylda said as she fluffed a pair of white pillows on the floral printed sofa where they were to wait.
Rosslyn was eyeing the gaudy sofa with a wrinkled brow when Colben chirped, “I smell cookies. I’d like one.”
“Colben,” Tallis said sternly, “that’s not a refreshment. You weren’t offered cookies, but something to drink. Remember what we talked about? About what to do and say in the presence of an Arcadian noble?”
Colben fidgeted with his fingers as he studied Tallis before nodding. Turning back to Matylda, he said, “Tea, please.”
When Matylda stiffened at Colben’s answer, Tomas said, “That will suffice for all of us, Matylda, thank you.”
She looked at Tomas for a moment before dipping her head once more, backing out of the room. “Right away. Please make yourselves comfortable.”
As soon as Matylda left the room, Rosslyn perched herself on the arm of the sofa. “If he doesn’t offer us a lot of coin to find his niece, I say we bugger off.”
Tomas watched Rosslyn, a slack expression settling on his face, mind racing over her overtly discourteous manners. Tomas, however, did not know how to bring up his concerns without offending Rosslyn. Thankfully, Tallis managed the situation for him.
“What’s gotten into you, Roz? Lost your taste for coin after spending most of Rodrigo’s treasure?” Tallis teased.
Before Rosslyn could answer, another servant entered the room carrying a golden tea set. Rarely were elves to be found in Noble Households aside from those of Artisan or Warrior roles; this was the first time Tomas had seen an elf servant patroned directly to a noble. The tremp eyed them, the tea set rattling in his hands as his eyes darted from Tallis to Colben.
Tallis stood, putting Colben behind her and placing a hand on the hilt of her dagger. She glared at the man and he did his best to still his quivering hands lest he spill the tea on Izaak’s expensive carpets or, worse, his own, immaculate white and black uniform.
Tomas could not discern what it was about Tallis or Colben’s features that gave them away as elandilis when no human could tell what they were. At least, not in any visible way that Tomas could see. Regardless, all tremps—or dag’ears as Theda and Arcadia called them—had the same reaction when they saw Tallis or Colben for the first time: alarm.
“My-my humblest apologies! I meant no offense by my gaze. I was just…I was surprised to see that you are…that you both are….” The tips of his long ears turned red and his chin dipped farther down the longer he stammered. With great difficulty, the servant collected himself with an audible swallow. “Forgive me. I have brought your refreshments. Please…do not hesitate to call should you require anything further.” The elf put the golden tea set down and scampered from the room.
Tallis sighed, lessening her grip on the dagger. “I really wish they would stop reacting like that. Between the tremps’ reactions and Rosslyn proclaiming what we are right in the name of our bloody group, it’s going to be impossible for Colben and me to hide what we are.”
“Oi! I told you, no one is going to know what the Sipsi phrase means,” Rosslyn snapped.
Before Tallis could argue further, Tomas said, “We’ll be fine, Tallis. Perhaps once we have patronage we can inquire of the elf warriors why they fear elandilis.”
“It’s because of the prophecy—” Tallis mumbled before Tomas interrupted her with a sigh.
“There is more to it than that, my love. The High Priestess, Ballinel, suggested that previous half-elves had caused destruction and chaos independently of the prophecy you were initially created for. I believe if we can…if we could inquire more as to what happened, or why human and elf unions rarely produce children, and if they do, why they sometimes create these devious offspring then maybe….Well, perhaps you’ll gain a better understanding of why the elves react the way they do when they see you. Perhaps you’ll…learn more about yourself in the process,” he said haltingly.
“Aye, and perhaps she’ll finally agree to marry you,” Rosslyn laughed.
Tomas blushed. “I didn’t….I wasn’t implying anything like that. I was just….I mean, I believe it would be helpful for both Tallis and Colben to know such things.”
Tallis met his eyes and gave him a ghost of a smile before the door opened and Matylda reappeared. “It is my deepest honor to present Lord Izaak of Radoslaw. Lord Izaak, may I present the mercenary group, Hanner Pobl. I shall wait outside, should you have need of me.” Matylda bowed out of the room.
Lord Izaak gave the group an appraising look before settling into a tall, oaken chair with wolves’ heads carved into the end of each armrest. He was a man who ate his wealth instead of wearing it; his rotund shape caused the chair to groan under his weight. He ignored the sound of the chair’s protest and continued to look at the group in silence. His shrewd, gray eyes fell on Colben in mild distaste before resting on Tallis, whom he squinted at curiously.
It was a common reaction the pair had when they were together. In Selkirk, Tallis had always attracted attention from people who could not quite place her. She was vaguely out of place on the muddy streets of Kincardine, an oddity that perplexed people. It might have been the same thing the elves observed when they looked at Tallis, but most people were simply not sure of what they saw. All they knew was that Tallis made them uncomfortable.
Colben was a different matter. He stared unapologetically at everyone he met, not because he had any great desire to challenge them, the way Rosslyn did, but because he was curious about everyone and everything. He tried to decipher every emotion that flitted across their faces in order to uncover their thoughts and secrets, and know them better.
With only the masters of the Ordine della Macchina and the branded, mute marcato as company, Colben had learned how to read faces the way most people read books. What he had not learned was how to properly interact with others. It was something they all tried to teach him, but months after his rescue, Tomas saw little progress.
Outside of Colben’s disquieting looks, he often elicited the same kind of reaction Tallis did with most people, who tried to puzzle out what seemed off about the pair of them. And, like most people, Lord Izaak gave up trying before long. Wrapping his hefty hands over the fawn-colored cummerbund stretched across his midsection, Izaak said in a gravelly voice, “I take it my Servant has told you what I require?”
“Your servant told us that your niece, the Lady Marcelina, has gone missing and you wish us to locate her. What she has not given us are the details to your situation, nor have we discussed compensation,” Tomas answered.
They had agreed, after Rosslyn had insulted the first noble she met, that Tomas would conduct all further meetings with nobles. Tallis preferred to watch from the periphery, drawing her own conclusions of the story their potential employers told.
Izaak bristled. “My situation is that my willful niece has run off and looks to make a chump out of me during my wedding negotiations. I’m not convinced my rivals didn’t put her up to it, either.”
“Your bride-to-be is a very lucky woman,” Rosslyn muttered.
Izaak glanced at Rosslyn before straightening his stone-colored, silk coat and brushing crumbs from his ruffled, scarlet shirt. Tomas bit his lip when Izaak gave Rosslyn a slight grin, flattered by her words.
Turning back to Tomas, Izaak rested his hands on the beige sash across his belly once more. “I believe Marcelina was told to misbehave to distract me from the negotiations. The very delicate negotiations I’ve worked on tirelessly to unite my house with that of Lord Kacper’s. You can see why I’d like her returned to my care immediately.”
