Michael Manning - The God-Stone War

“We have different definitions of risk sweetheart, but everything turned out alright. Let’s not let it ruin the evening,” I added.

A subtle whirl of emotions passed through her. I could see it in her aura and in the faint movements of her lips and eyes. “You’re right. I’m tired, and lately everything seems to bother me more than it should.” As she spoke, she seemed to almost visibly project her sincerity. If Marcus had been in the room he would have called it ‘overacting’.

Taking a step forward, I started to embrace her but Penny sidestepped me. “Let me go clean up the glass first. It’s really bothering me.” I stopped awkwardly with my arms half out, while she turned and left the room, heading for the broom closet.

Sitting down on the bed, I began reviewing the last few minutes in my mind, while following her progress with my magesight. She had gotten a broom and was now sweeping up the fragments of the mirror that had hung over the fireplace. After a moment she stopped and leaned on the broom. The shaking of her shoulders told me she was crying and I withdrew my senses. Watching was only making me more upset. Why is she so upset?

It wasn’t the accident. She had dealt with far worse than that over the past few years. That was simply the trigger and the excuse. Perhaps it was the mirror, though that made little sense. I was one of the richest men in Lothion. I could easily buy her another mirror. Where had we gotten that mirror anyway? The question rolled around in my head for a moment before the answer sprang at me like a jungle cat waiting in ambush… her mother. That mirror was one of the few things she had from her mother, I realized.

Leaping up, I caught her at the kitchen door. It led out to our small garden, and was the preferred exit we used to reach our rubbish pile. She had the glass fragments bundled into a heavy pile within a cloth square. I stopped her by making an obstacle of myself as she tried to reach the door. “Wait, let me have those,” I said.

Her cheeks were dry already as she looked up at me. “Mort, let me by. I need to throw this stuff away.”

“That was your mother’s mirror. I finally remembered a moment ago. Let me have it and I’ll fix it for you.”

“It would take forever, even for you. It’s broken into a thousand tiny shards. You’d never get them all together again. Just let me throw it away. It isn’t your fault,” she said reasonably. Though she tried to hide it, there was a glimmer of hope in her eye.

I pulled the bag from her hands and she didn’t resist much. “There might be a way. Give me some time to think on it. Alright?” I slid my right arm around her shoulder as I spoke and I felt her relax against me. Her own hand snaked around my waist.

“Fine,” Penny said at last. “If it will make you feel better.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Yes, I think it would. You know how terribly sentimental I am about these things,” I answered with a wink.

Dinner was served at the usual hour, but today the keep bustled with increased activity and there was a feeling of excitement in the air. Since the patrol had returned, it meant that two hundred men who had been absent for six months were back home again. The multitude of family reunions as the soldiers reunited with their wives and children made it seem much like a holiday, and in fact, the castle staff was treating it as one. Several pigs had been slaughtered, and my foresters had brought down a few deer as well. The feast would be exceptional tonight.

Penelope stood beside me, dazzling in her beauty. She had spared no effort in her preparations today. Two hours before dinnertime we had returned to our nominal suite of rooms, the part of the castle that we supposedly lived in. The children were gathered up by our nanny, Lilly, and they were now enjoying their dinner in a separate hall with the other children of Castle Cameron. We normally had breakfast and lunch as a family, but the evening meal was usually a more formal occasion.

The woman next to me looked every inch a Countess and I still wondered at my fortune in marrying her. This evening she was wearing a straightforward green dress, but the devil was in the details or in this case the accents. The hem and sleeves were delicately embroidered with dark green leaf patterns, that matched the leaves in a cloth of gold belt that looped around her waist twice at different heights. The net effect was to accentuate her figure and exploit her natural curves. The emerald earrings and the pendant that she wore were simple and elegant but only highlighted the fact that the wearer was, in fact, more beautiful than her jewelry. “Ready?” she asked me.

By that she meant was I ready to make our entrance. Unlike most of those who lived in the castle, we couldn’t simply walk in and sit down at the table. We couldn’t even be early, for if we were, it disrupted the staff and the routine. Given our position as master and mistress, our arrival signaled the beginning of the meal. Once we entered everyone would rise and wait until we had reached our places. All in all it was a pain in the ass.

Nodding I took her arm and we stepped out into the noisy feast hall. One of the footmen standing by the doorway raised his voice above the crowd as he announced us, “All rise for the Count and Countess!” The noise in the room died away rapidly, as everyone stood and watched us make our way to our seats at the high table.

Reaching the end of the table I held Penelope’s chair for her, before taking my own. The old tradition had been for two servants to hold both our chairs for us and we would sit at the same time, but I much preferred the chance to engage in a bit of gallantry. In the end my stubbornness had prevailed, and a new tradition was born. I spoke as I sat down myself, “Please everyone, relax and enjoy your meal.”

The level of noise rose rapidly back to normal, as conversations resumed and the servers began bringing out the pitchers to fill everyone’s cups. Our table was long, but it still lacked enough seats to accommodate everyone that might be of a rank to sit with me. I had created twenty Knights of Stone, but since half of them were usually in Gododdin, I rarely had to worry about seating that many knights and their wives.

Since this patrol had just returned, the ten knights who were now back home would be given a few weeks rest before dispersing to their usual posts across the kingdom of Lothion. Each of them had been granted a home and a small allotment of land in whichever part of the kingdom they resided. They lived in those homes with their families during the half of the year that they weren’t busy trekking across Gododdin in search of undead monsters. Although King James had been the one to give most of them their grants of land, they still answered directly to me. He and Dorian would accept matters no other way.

Tonight I had Penny sitting at my right and my mother, Miriam, was beside her. On my left sat Dorian, still a bit rough looking after his long sojourn away from home. Beside him was Lady Rose, who almost seven years before had become Lady Rose Thornbear. She was resplendent as usual, in a silver gown. Her hair had been carefully coiffed and piled atop her head, while some of it had been left to spill free in the back, flowing down her neck and across one shoulder. A natural beauty, she was made even more stunning by the fact of her pregnancy, she was quite literally ‘great’ with child. Given the shine in her eyes and the way Dorian was constantly watching her, I did not doubt the old rumor that many women were more beautiful when pregnant.

Next to Rose sat Sir Harold, the third highest ranked of my knights. Beside him was his wife, Lisette. She had formerly been one of the castle maids, but now she was more properly addressed as, ‘Dame Lisette’. Across from Harold and sitting next to Miriam, was Walter Prathion, wizard and these days, Baron of Arundel as well. I had granted the title and lands to him not long after the death of our previous king, Edward. He certainly deserved the reward, and I didn’t mind having one of the only remaining wizards in existence as my vassal.