Margaret Weis - Shadow Raiders

“And we will get it back from the pawn shop,” said Rodrigo soothingly. “Just mention to the countess that you could use an advance on payment, will you?”

“I haven’t agreed to take this job yet,” said Stephano angrily. He snatched his best tricorn hat, which was the current fashion, since it could be folded and tucked under the arm, and stomped down the stairs.

Benoit was there to see them off. The old man smiled to see Stephano and a wistful look came into the weak eyes. “I wish your father could see you, sir. You do him proud.”

“He wouldn’t be proud of the fact that I’m selling my soul to the king,” Stephano muttered.

“He would, sir,” said Benoit stoutly. “Your father, Lord Julian, God rest him, was a practical man.”

“My father wasn’t practical at all, you know,” said Stephano somberly to Rodrigo, as they entered the carriage. “Julian de Guichen was a man who sacrificed his wealth, his lands, and eventually his life for a hopeless cause, all in the name of honor and loyalty and friendship.”

“The apple did not fall far from the tree,” observed Rodrigo.

“Don’t try flattering me,” said Stephano, glowering. “It won’t work.”

“Take the rest of the day off, Benoit,” Rodrigo called out the carriage window before shutting it. “We will dine out.”

Rodrigo told the driver their destination and shut the carriage door. The driver nodded his head at his boy, who released the mooring line that secured the carriage to the ground, then took his place at the rear. The wyvern was harnessed to the carriage by long tethers attached to breast and shoulders. Magic used in the construction of the carriage added strength to the thin wooden walls while keeping the weight as low as possible. Internal reservoirs or “lift tanks” held the refined and purified “Breath of God” that provided much of the vehicle’s buoyancy, with a balloon for additional lift.

The balloon was red in color, the carriage blue. One could always tell a rented carriage by the red balloons. The driver, mounted on the seat in front of the carriage, began channeling the magical energy that existed naturally in the world into a brass control panel. A series of constructs, set into the brass itself, allowed the driver control over the levels of buoyancy in the two primary lift tanks located on either side of the carriage, and the forward and rear stabilizing tanks. From the brass panel, the driver could also control the large multichambered red balloon tethered to the top of carriage.

The carriage’s passenger compartment could seat four comfortably. The leaded glass windows were covered with lace curtains to provide the occupants a degree of privacy. The blue-lacquered exterior was waxed till it shone and was set off by polished brass fixtures and lanterns.

When the carriage was clear of the ground, the driver gave three short tweets from a whistle, letting anyone nearby know that they were preparing to leave. Next, he clucked at the wyvern and poked the creature in the back with a prod.

The wyvern angrily whipped around its head and snapped at the prod. Wyverns are temperamental and stupid, but the driver was used to such behavior from his steed. He poked the wyvern again, and the beast sullenly flapped its wings and took off.

Stephano threw himself into a corner of the conveyance and sat there, brooding. As always, when he was forced to pay a visit to his mother, he was in a foul mood. His thoughts carried him back to the past. He blamed Benoit for having brought up his father, but it wasn’t the old man’s fault. Stephano would have thought about his father in any case. He could not help thinking about his father whenever he was forced to visit his mother.

Cecile de Marjolaine, daughter of the wealthy and powerful Count de Marjolaine, was introduced at court when she was sixteen, having the honor to become one of the ladies-in-waiting to the queen. Cecile was an extraordinarily beautiful young woman, as well as being the only heir to her father’s vast fortune. Both wealthy and lovely, she was the jewel of the court. Nobles and princes cast their hearts at her feet. Even King Alaric, newly ascended to the throne on the sudden death of his father, was said to be enamored of her.

Cecile was flattered by the attention, but her own heart remained untouched until she met the handsome and dashing young Dragon Knight, Sir Julian de Guichen. The two fell deeply, hopelessly in love-hopeless because the count had determined that his only child, his beautiful daughter, would marry well. De Guichen was merely the son of a knight and not a particularly wealthy knight at that. To make matters worse, the de Guichens were loyal friends with the king’s avowed enemy, the Duke de Bourlet.

The two young people knew only that they adored each other. None of the rest mattered. And then Cecile discovered she was pregnant. She was frightened, but was also ecstatic. She and Julian would run away to be married and live happily ever after. Before she could tell Julian the wonderful news, however, the Dragon Brigade was summoned to duty and he had to leave. The two had only a few fleeting moments together before he was gone.

Cecile had no mother in whom to confide; her mother having died when she was young, and she continued to dream her pretty dreams until the day she was confronted by Lady Adele, an older woman, who was also one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting. The sharp-eyed Adele had noted Cecile’s swelling breasts, expanding waistline, and her unfortunate tendency to vomit on a daily basis. Lady Adele spoke to the girl in private and in a few stark words shattered the pretty dreams by making Cecile face cold, ugly reality.

Did Cecile honestly think the Count de Marjolaine would allow his only daughter, who stood to inherit one of the largest fortunes in the kingdom, to marry a penniless knight?

“Your noble father would have Julian killed first,” said Lady Adele pitilessly. “And don’t think he could not do it and get away with it. If you truly love Julian, you will cast him off and never speak to him again.”

Cecile was forced to admit the lady was right. Her father was known by everyone to be a cold-blooded, ruthless, calculating man. She cried herself to sleep every night, Julian’s letters in her hand.

Cecile was fast reaching the point where she could no longer hide her pregnancy. She had planned to travel to Lady Adele’s country estate to have the child in secret, when she received an abrupt summons to return home. The count did not ask her if the rumors he had heard about her were true. One look at her swollen belly provided the answer.

He demanded to know the name of the father. Cecile steadfastly refused to tell him. He called her a whore and struck her across the face, knocking her to the floor. His large emerald ring split her lip, leaving a small, white scar visible to this day. He sent his daughter to a nunnery, where she remained in seclusion until her baby, a son, was born.

Cecile had not written to tell Julian of her pregnancy, for she knew he would come to her and that would place his life in danger. She had determined to keep the name of the baby’s father a secret. But her labor was long and difficult and at one point Cecile was in such agony and was so exhausted that she feared she would die. In her despair, she confided the name of the baby’s father to the Mother Superior.

Cecile gave birth to a son. The nuns allowed her to spend a day-one glorious day-with her baby. Then, on the count’s orders, the child was taken away to be placed in the Church orphanage.

The Mother Superior was a woman of strong convictions. She came from a noble family herself and did not think it proper that the child of a knight should be raised in an orphanage, never knowing his father. The Mother Superior wrote to Sir Julian, telling him he had a son.