Brian Anderson - Shadow of the Gods

“And just where have you been, Master Millet?” she asked when they were by her side. “Off making trouble with that Starfinder fellow, I imagine.” She looked back down the road where they had come. “I see he's not with you. So much the better. We have enough troubles without the likes of him around.”

“Mind what you say, Martha Tredall,” said Millet. “Lee Starfinder has never given you reason to speak ill of him. He's given your husband more than his share of business.”

Martha lowered her eyes. “That he has, true enough. But that doesn't excuse him for bringing trouble to our town, now does it?”

“What trouble?” asked Millet, steadying his horse.

Martha looked up at Millet. Her eyes were filled with anger. “Those bloody faithful. They arrived just after you and Lee made off with young Gewey Stedding.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Gewey's not coming back, is he?”

“Why do you ask?”

She stepped close. “Because they keep askin' about him…those faithful, I mean. They've asked everyone in town if they know where he is.”

“And what do you tell them?” asked Millet, suddenly feeling very exposed on the road.

Martha stood up straight and held her head high. “I don't tell them nothin'. I don't care how much gold they throw around. Besides, I don't know nothin' anyway. Last I heard he went north with Lee. Not that I believed a word of it, but that's what we heard from Lee's servants. From what I heard about those faithful, they're from up north. I figure if he went that way for real, they wouldn't be lookin’ for him here.”

Millet thought for a moment. “How many of these faithful are there?”

Martha shrugged. “Not many. Ten or so. But they got lots of gold. They make your master look like a beggar. And they use it, too.

They've practically bought the town. There's not a shop or farm in Sharpstone that isn't caught up with them somehow or other.”

“Where do they stay?” asked Millet.

“They built themselves a big house just north of town. Not far from your master’s place.” She took a step back and glanced at Dina. “You and your friend might want to stay away. They ain't hurt no one yet, but they look like they could.”

Millet's eyes narrowed. “No, my dear. I will not be staying away.” He looked down the road toward town. “And Lee Starfinder is no longer master. I am.” He spurred his horse. Dina followed closely behind.

The way to the manor took them just to the outskirts of town. The few people they passed on the way stopped and stared. Some dashed away. When they arrived at the entrance to one of the many roads that led to the house, Millet slowed his horse to a walk.

“I take it this is not the homecoming you were expecting,” said Dina.

Millet dropped his head and took a deep breath. “I wasn't certain what to expect. I thought Angraalmight be watching Sharpstone being that it was Gewey's hometown, but I didn't expect them to set up a base here.”

“What are you going to do?”

Millet looked up. Anger burned in his eyes. “I'm going to kick them out of my town.”

As they approached the house, Millet caught sight of two servants busy tending the garden. He recognized them as Barty Inglewood and his son, Randson. Lee had hired them on, five years ago. Originally from Gath, they were as stout and dedicated workers as a person could hope to find. Their faces lit up when they saw Millet.

“I thought you'd left us for good,” called Barty. He set down his rake and removed his work gloves, shoving them in his pocket. His son only glanced up and nodded from where he was trimming the hedges, then went back to his work.

“As did I,” said Millet.

“Randson,” called Barty. “Help Millet and…”

“This is Dina,” said Millet. “A friend. This is Barty Inglewood and his son, Randson. They are by far the best gardeners for a hundred miles.”

“A friend of Millet's is mine, as well,” Barty bowed awkwardly. “And where is Lord Starfinder?”

Millet and Dina dismounted and began unpacking their gear. “Lee will not be coming.”

Barty rubbed his chin. “I see. I've never heard you call him Lee before, so I reckon you have news to tell.” He began gathering their things. “You'll be wanting to wash up. I'll get Lydia started on your rooms and a bath. Meal time may have to wait for a couple of hours though. Most everyone is staying down at the Stedding farm now days.”

“Lee instructed for the farm to be cared for,” said Millet. “But I don't think he intended for his entire staff to move there.” He took a quick look around. “Who's left?”

“Me and my boy, of course. Lydia does most of the housework, and Trevor, the old cook Lee hired a couple of years ago, is still here. But he doesn't move around so good anymore, so Lydia helps in the kitchen, too.” He slung a pack over his shoulder. “No one wants to be around now that all those newcomers are about. The rest of the staff comes about once a week to see to repairs and the like, but then they're off again. If Lord Starfinder didn't pay so good they’d all be moved away by now.”

Mention of the newcomers brought tension to Millet's face.

“I see you've already heard about them,” said Barty. He started toward the house. “Well, don't you worry. They don't come calling here anymore. Me and my boy ran them off.”

Millet kept silent and he and Dina followed Barty through the front door. The house was just as Millet remembered. The main hall was just beyond the door and furnished with heavy oak couches and chairs covered with soft, suede upholstery. The walls were decorated with exotic tapestries Lee had acquired during his many travels. A fire crackled in the hearth at the far right end and two silver lamps glowed dimly against the wall behind the couch. Just next to the fireplace was a door that led to the dining hall and sitting room. In the near corner was another that led to Lee's study and bedrooms. The hardwood floors were covered with a large blood red rug, woven with delicate silver patterns. Lee had purchased it in Dantory when he was not much more than a boy.

Millet moved to the wall to avoid stepping on it as he made his way to the rear door. It would be a shame to muddy such a beautiful thing.

“I will take the master suite,” said Millet.

Barty cocked an eyebrow but said nothing.

When he reached the master bedroom, he asked Barty to show Dina to a guest room and went inside. Barty could see that Millet was now in charge, and obeyed at once. Millet took a long look around. The large bed was built from flame maple, polished and stained to a dark brown. The green bed coverings were soft and thick. Millet had often envied Lee such a comfortable sleep. In the corner was a small round table and two chairs where Lee used to take his breakfast. A book of Baltrian poems still sat on the table where it had been left. A large wardrobe in the corner was still ajar from Lee's quick departure and a bookcase against the wall still bore signs of his rummaging through it. Millet took a deep breath and began to unpack. It was his now. All of it. For good or ill, he was lord of the manor.

Randson brought a wash basin and hot water a few minutes later. After he had cleaned and changed, he strode back to the main hall. Dina was already awaiting him, clothed in a blue cotton dress and seated in a chair, thumbing through a small leather-bound book.

“Lee certainly liked books,” said Dina. “There must be fifty in my room alone.”

Millet smiled and took a seat across from her. “He did indeed.” He leaned back and rubbed his neck. “There is much about Lee Starfinder that lives in this house.” He pointed out the tapestries and other various decorations and began telling Dina where they came from and how Lee had acquired them. Dina smiled and listened patiently.