Brian Kittrell - The Consuls of the Vicariate

“I wonder…” Piers ran to the back. Laedron and the others struggled to keep up.

Piers flung a door wide, and Laedron peered over his shoulder. With gleaming armor and weapon stands abounding, the room clearly housed the order’s arms.

Entering the room, Piers exhibited a wide grin. “We shall be able to restore ourselves to our former glory and equip our members properly. Today is a great day indeed.”

“You’ll be more careful this time, won’t you?” Laedron asked.

“What are you inferring?”

“Only that a traitor got in, that’s all. Are you forgetting Lester?”

Piers’s eyes shifted shamefully. “Taking in Lester and some of the others we wouldn’t have normally was a matter of necessity. With many of our men jailed or slain, we had to replenish our numbers. Aside from that, yes. We will take far better care in the future.”

“Good. I would hate to see you undone by the likes of another like Lester. For men like that, only an appropriate amount of gold would stand between you and a knife in your back.”

“Point taken,” Piers said, “but let us not swim in the mistakes of the past.”

Laedron nodded. “Very well. Are we invited to stay until we leave?”

Piers tilted his head. “Of course. I would never deny my brothers in arms. The residences are on the second and third floors, and you have your pick of living spaces until you leave. We won’t begin recruiting for days yet, and we’ll be sending news abroad for traveling knights.”

“Traveling knights?” Marac asked.

“The Heraldan chapter prefers a good mix of nationalities in our number. It keeps us from being dominated too heavily in favor of one religion or political standing, and the Dawn Knights must remain loyal to themselves above all others.”

“I think the place is in good hands,” Laedron said, patting Piers on the shoulder. “You’ve seen the order through some rough times, and I can see you leading your chapter through the flames of the hells, no matter how hot.”

“Thank you, Sorcerer.” Piers looked past them when more men entered from the main door. “If you’ll excuse me, we have things to attend.”

Laedron watched Piers go over to the newcomers, and said, “Let’s visit our new lodgings. Then we should go visit a tailor like Jurgen recommended.”

“What sort of clothes do you think he’ll prefer us to wear?” Brice asked.

Laedron shrugged, then opened the leather pouch Jurgen had given him. His jaw dropped when he saw the contents: two coins stamped with the Azuran Star and the words, “Platinum One,” repeated around the perimeter.

“What’s in there?” Marac asked.

Laedron slowly shook his head. In Sorbia, minted coins made of platinum were a myth, a fable told to young children to flood their minds with amazement and awe. Rumors abounded that the Sorbian treasury possessed such coins, and no one other than the king could be allowed to enter that forbidden chamber. To Laedron, platinum coins lay at the base of any nation’s wealth, and they were never used in trading.

Taking the coin from the pouch, Laedron held it up for their inspection.

“Well, that answers that,” Marac said. “Either he doesn’t expect much from us or you can get some nice clothing for a silver piece in these parts.”

“No.” Laedron held the coin closer to Marac’s eye. “Platinum.”

Brice gasped, then he and Valyrie crowded close around Laedron’s hand.

“He gave us a whole platinum to get clothes?” Marac asked.

Laedron pulled out the other coin. “Two.”

“Two!” Brice yelled, hardly able to contain himself. For a moment, Laedron thought Brice might faint from the sudden excitement.

Piers glanced back at them, apparently alerted by Brice’s loudness, and Laedron hid the coins back in the pouch. I can’t trust even Piers to know that we now possess two whole platinum coins, regardless of our relationship .

“Quiet, you,” Laedron whispered, glaring at Brice. “We don’t want anyone finding out that we’re carrying two platinum pieces. Do you know how much these are worth?”

“Of course. They’re worth two platinums.” Marac nudged Laedron and laughed.

Laedron rolled his eyes, and Marac said, “Oh, Lae, you should’ve seen your face. You were awfully serious.”

“And for good reason. Never mind.” Laedron tucked the pouch into his waistband. “Let’s find a tailor. Know of any, Val?”

“For that kind of money? Only the Best.”

“Yes, but where?”

“Only the Best.”

Laedron blinked his eyes rapidly. “Yes, but where ?”

“That’s the name of the place. Only the Best is where.”

He sighed. “All right. Take us there, then.”

* * *

Well, she didn’t lie . Laedron studied the ornate placard in front of the tailor’s shop. Judging by the people walking in and out of the establishment, he reckoned that the business had earned its namesake because only those with deep pockets utilized the service.

Upon entering, they were immediately eyed by a man behind the counter. The portly man’s walk was more of a waddle as he approached, his fat finger outstretched at them. “If you’re looking for a privy, we have none for the public. Best see your way out the way you came.”

“Is this how you treat all of your customers?” Laedron asked.

The man scoffed and tried to keep his measuring tape from falling off his shoulder. “I have no time for games, young fellow. Can you not see that I am busy? Now, see your way out.”

“I was told that you were the finest tailor in Azura. I suppose we’ll have to bring our platinum elsewhere.”

“Platinum?” The man shook his head, looking at their clothing. “The likes of you with a platinum? I think not. Quit wasting my time.”

Laedron produced the coin. “I suppose you lost out on a sale, my good man. Let’s go.”

“Wait, wait, wait! Don’t be so hasty,” the tailor said, waving his hands. “I’m busy, but I can take orders. Come, come.” He returned to the counter.

Laedron grinned, then relaxed his face when the man turned around.

“So, my good people…” The tailor opened a ledger. “By when would you require your clothing?”

“Tonight,” Laedron replied.

“Impossible.”

“Impossible? Then we must find somewhere else to go.”

“Wait, please. Let me explain.”

Laedron folded his arms. “If you’re too busy, then we must seek our wares at another shop. No amount of explaining will change that.”

“I’m busy with alterations. Don’t you see?” The tailor gestured at the numerous mannequins standing around the room. “There shall be a ceremony tomorrow, and all of my customers are vying to get their best suits altered in a hurry.”

“What sort of ceremony?”

“Why, the consulship has announced an end to the war, and they have released this paper here. They’ve gotten the whole city in an uproar.”

The man slid a poster across the counter, and Laedron read it aloud.

To All Citizens of Azura,

Your Holy Consulship Commands your Respect at a Ceremony to Honor Heroes and Celebrate the Peace. Respond Ye to your Steward with Haste and Reserve your Place.

The Azuran Star with vines and flowers appeared below the inscription, and the bottom of the poster contained details of the ceremony and the following feast.

“Then, you had better get your needle and thread ready, friend,” Laedron said, returning the poster. “We are the heroes of which this notice speaks.”

“You?” the man asked, his chubby face filled with surprise.

“Yes. Think of it, if you will. All of Azura was present to witness… what’s your name?”