Chapter 19 (1/5)

Darius sat bent over, resting his head on his hands, which were propped up on his knees. It had been a difficult evening, for many reasons. He closed his eyes, recalling what had happened.

After sending Draco and James to safer areas of the party, Gizel blended into the crowd and, with compliments and favourable glances, bent her conversation partners to her will. Matheo talked loudly about armour with several military men, who listened to him with the utmost interest. Fiora smiled as she assisted her husband. Bleist had no choice but to join in the conversation with people he liked and those he would rather not have met in his life. The polite conversations continued until a wave of excitement, small but noticeable, swept through the room. Remembering the elf's plan, the colonel thanked his current interlocutor for his company and moved in the direction where he thought the epicentre of the phenomenon was. And indeed, he found Gizel with an expressionless face and Laven in a state indicating that he had consumed significantly more alcohol than anyone should. On top of that, he was shouting in Gizel's face that she had cheated on her husband, but that it didn't matter anyway because she was infertile. Darius gritted his teeth at the mere mention of it. The crowd around them was restless, and the elves in particular were very agitated. Meanwhile, Laven continued his tirade, adding more and more insults. Without a second thought, Bleist snatched Captain Forth's gloves from his belt and slapped his cousin with them, demanding satisfaction. Silence fell over the immediate vicinity, and only then did Darius realise that it was not only Gizel who had been insulted. A little to the side stood Matheo, red-faced and held back by Fiora. Laven didn't even flinch and said that for the dirty rabble and for the wh... He never finished his sentence, because Darius, white with rage, threw him across the banquet hall with a kinetic blast. The slightly battered aristocrat had no intention of stopping his insults, but instead extended them to Darius and his father. And that was too much. Another spellwas involuntarily cast by Bleist, and Sarn's golden lightning bolts struck Kerling's light veil one after another. His cousin did not last long, and finally one of the bolts reached its target, and through the sound of the shield spell being broken, the nasty sound of breaking bones could be heard. At that moment, the Grand Master emerged from the crowd and stopped his advisor with a simple statement that this was a sufficient lesson and there was no reason to dirty his hands over someone like that. The apt remark cooled his anger somewhat and restored Darius's common sense. Bleist had no idea that Master Tilion would be attending the party and did not notice the announcement of his arrival. He was not the only one, for that matter. Darius, mindful of his duties as host, greeted the distinguished guest, and then chaos erupted. Everyone wanted to at least see the Grand Master. The incident from just a moment ago was drowned out by loud greetings and general commotion. In the meantime, Kerling disappeared, and Darius was left with a grim expression to entertain the guests. As soon as Gizel said she was going back to her place, the mage sent his apprentice away with her. Incidentally, not wanting to tempt fate, he ordered an increase in security in Ed'heere, passing this on not only to Draco, but also to the mounted messenger. The rest of the evening passed in a rather stiff atmosphere filled with whispers, sidelong glances and half-spoken remarks. Just a wonderful party.

The carriage stopped and the doors opened. Due to the need to take care of security matters, Evis and Seth remained in the crystal palace, so Darius got out without assistance. Trace appeared at his side almost immediately.

-I've doubled the guards and moved the cavalry to the gates for support. I'd like to see any suspicious individuals causing trouble run away from the besses.- The lieutenant smiled half-heartedly, but it didn't hide the anger frozen on his face. So the news had already reached here.

-Good, thank you.- The doorman opened the front door, and as soon as Darius crossed the threshold of his home, he began to think only of getting rid of his heavy and not-so-comfortable robe. It was really late, the clock on the left showed a quarter past three, yet the candelabra were burning in the entrance hall and magical lights were floating around. The magician looked around, searching for Oscar with his eyes. The butler was nowhere to be seen, so he called a servant over.- You can turn off the lights now.- The butler did not react immediately and glanced around. Apart from them, only the lieutenant was in the room.- Has something happened?- Darius really did not feel like dealing with any more problems today.

-Young Master Draco is practising in the training room, so we left the lights on,- the servant began to explain. Darius glanced at the clock again.

-He's not asleep yet?- he asked himself and calmly headed towards the stairs leading to the basement.

-I beg your pardon, Colonel, but I must return to my duties.- Bleist just nodded to Trace, and the lieutenant bowed and headed towards the palace exit.

-I can manage on my own,- Darius called after the servant. The stairs to the basement were located at the back of the building, in a part that was rather inaccessible to guests, so it took him a while to reach the training room. He stopped in front of the massive, enchanted wrought-steel door, took a few deep breaths, and opened it.

He found the scene he had expected. Draco, in a completely sweat-soaked shirt and dark trousers, was attacking quickly and fiercely with a training sword. His opponent, Cassius, clearly already tired, defended himself as best he could. Empty vials lying on the floor and splattered blood indicated that the vampire must have been using his racial magic. The second guard, Ari, like the others in a loose shirt and trousers, was breathing heavily, sitting against the wall with his eyes slightly closed. The elf must have just finished his fight. Of the three, only the dragon was still bursting with energy.

-I think that's enough for today,- Darius said gently. Draco instinctively jumped back out of his opponent's reach and shuddered as if snapped out of a trance. At the same moment, Cassius leaned heavily on his sword and tried to steady his ragged breathing. Ari lifted himself heavily from the floor and seemed to bow, although in his current state he might just as well have staggered on his tired legs. - You are free to go, gentlemen,- he said to the soldiers. Cassius and Ari bowed according to etiquette, quickly said goodbye to the dragon, who was still clutching his training sword, and disappeared behind the door.- You need to rest too, Draco,- the mage approached his student, looking at him closely. It seemed that the dragon had indeed fallen into some kind of battle trance earlier and had not felt so tired during it, but as soon as he stopped focusing on the fight, the accumulated exhaustion hit him with double force.- Are you feeling well?

-Yes...I'm fine,- Draco gasped.- Even better than before.

-Are you sure?- Bleist's voice sounded concerned and caring.

-Yes,- the dragon smiled crookedly.-Focusing on the fight helps clear my head of other thoughts.- He added, putting his training sword back on the wooden weapon rack.

-I'm glad everything is fine.- Darius only now noticed that the dragon's shirt was indeed soaked through.- You can't go outside like that.- He continued his thought aloud.- If you catch a cold, Oscar will give me hell.- He said half-jokingly, half-seriously, looking around.

-Indeed...- muttered the disheartened dragon with a grimace, trying to peel off his completely wet clothes. -Somewhere around here...- Draco approached one of the piles of crates and began searching for something around it. Before he found it, he managed to free himself from the wet fabric and throw the shirt onto one of the empty crates. From among the other containers, he pulled out another one, quite fresh, though burnt on the left sleeve and side.- This one should do.- He put on the shirt, but after a moment it was wet.- It's warm, so it shouldn't be a problem... Actually, if it were cold, it probably wouldn't be a problem either.- The dragon laughed and yawned wearily.

-Right.- Darius nodded, mentally correcting himself that his student was a fire dragon.- Nevertheless, you should still take care of yourself.- He added with conviction.- Now come on, it's time for a well-deserved rest. He smiled at his student. Draco nodded and, rubbing his eyes, headed for the stairs. The mage let his student go ahead, watching his exhausted protégé shuffling his feet.

As the dragon did not speak, Bleist followed him in silence. It was strange to see the ever-energetic Draco so tired. When, after a long moment, they reached the door of the boy's room, Darius ruffled his still wet hair.

-Time for a bath and bed,- he commanded with a smile.

-Um...- The dragon blinked sleepily.- Good night, master.

-Good night, Draco.

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The morning was tough. Although it was difficult to call it morning, as the clock was approaching eleven. James lazily got out of bed and looked around his small attic room. It only had a bed, a wardrobe, a table and a chair, but that was enough for him. He stretched, yawned and, trying not to lie back down, began to get dressed. Once ready, he left, closed the door behind him and, trying to be as quiet as possible, made his way to the kitchen. He didn't encounter anyone in the corridors, but that didn't surprise him at all. No one wanted to disturb the lords of the house as they rested after a tiring and, ultimately, not very pleasant evening. He found three meals prepared in the kitchen, so he took his and sat down at the kitchen table. All the servants must have finished their kitchen duties long ago and dispersed to other tasks in the house or in the city. The simple, nutritious breakfast disappeared very quickly.

-There you are, James.- Ingrid peeked into the room. A young, stocky servant with a round, smiling face entered. - Mr Welles is here. The lady is still asleep, and the master has been working in the forge since yesterday. - She stopped next to the elf. - I know you were supposed to have the day off today, but could you talk to him?

-Sure, no problem.- He replied, swallowing the last bite of his sandwich.- Is he in the master's office? -No, in the shop.- The girl shrugged.- He said he wanted to see the new space.

-Uh, I'm on my way to see him.- James stood up, straightened himself and briskly set off to meet his client.

As soon as he entered the shop, he immediately spotted the old man on the other side of the room. As he approached, he realised that the man had aged considerably in a short time. His once radiant, ruddy complexion had turned grey and wrinkled. His thick, raven-black hair had thinned, revealing receding hairline and a few grey strands. His characteristic upright posture had become stooped, and Mr Welles was leaning heavily on his cane.

-Good morning, Mr. Armand,- the elf greeted him with a bow.

-Hello, boy.- The man gave him only a brief glance and returned to looking at the armour on display.- How is Master Matheo?

-Thank you, he is well. Unfortunately, he is unavailable today, but I will try to assist you in his place.- Another slight bow and a professional smile.- Is there anything in particular that interests you?'

-Hmm...- Mr Welles did not answer for a moment, then pulled a few folded pages from the inside pocket of his coat.- I will need armour corresponding to these measurements, along with descriptions.

James took the pages and quickly looked them over. They contained measurements for various types of armour, mainly medium-sized, along with various comments. The elf quickly searched his memory, comparing the warehouse inventory with the list he had received.

-Fortunately, we have the right products in stock,- James muttered to himself. -We'll just need to adjust the fastenings and connections...- He thought for a moment.- Everything should be ready in two weeks.

-Good.- The older man leaned more heavily on his cane.- I also need to replenish my weapon supply,- he said, fixing his gaze on one of the display items again.

-Of course.- James folded the documents and bowed slightly.- Then please follow me, sir.- The elf led the guest to a part of the shop slightly separated from the rest. Behind the door to a smaller room were two rows of racks filled with various types of dwarven weapons. On the right were swords, cutlasses, broadswords, maces, morning stars and other types of short weapons. On the left were spears, pikes, bardiches, gleves, gizarms, halberds and other polearms. Opposite the entrance, on the wall, hung crossbows, flintlock pistols and rifled muskets. All made in Abbis by the swordsmiths and gunsmiths of Waffenkreuz. -Please take your pick,- James said, stepping aside.- I must remind you that for larger orders, you should expect a longer waiting time due to transport from Abbis.

-I understand,- said the man, passing James. Mr Welles did not pay much attention to the weapons on display, only glancing briefly at the selection.- I will need five hundred military one-handed swords, two hundred broadswords, one hundred cutlasses, three hundred halberds, the ones with wider blades and rounded axes, two hundred pikes, six hundred rifles and the same number of pistols.- He turned to James, who was quickly writing down the order.- No additional markings or decorations.

-Certainly.- The elf finished writing.- Would you like anything else?- He froze with his pen over the paper.

-No, that will be all.- Mr Welles turned and headed for the main part of the shop.

-Please wait a moment and I'll write up the paperwork.- James passed the man and went to the counter where he had the forms ready. He took the order form and began to fill in all the details and items requested by Mr Welles. - Are you expecting any large orders for weapons?- The elf tried to strike up a conversation while copying the list of armour he had received earlier.

-I hope not.- Mr. Welles looked around and continued only after a long pause. -However, I've lived long enough, boy, to recognise when something disturbing is happening. And although I'd like to be wrong, it seems to me that we're in for a somewhat turbulent period.

James froze for a moment and looked up from the page he was writing on. The man standing a few steps away from him was looking at one of the armour displays again. He seemed calm, but he grimaced slightly.

-I didn't think war was coming.- The elf lowered his gaze and returned to writing down the order.

-Oh, contrary to appearances, war wouldn't be so bad.- The customer came closer, tearing himself away from admiring the exhibits.- We will face new skirmishes among the aristocrats and the powerful.- He waved his hand dismissively. - At least in war, you know who the enemy is, whereas it's so difficult to tell who will stab whom in the back. - He shook his head gloomily. - And everyone will suffer, from the poor in the slums to the magnates. - He sighed and paused for a long time. - How I wish I were wrong. Oh well, maybe this time it won't come to the worst.- James didn't comment.

-Here's your order.- The elf handed Mr Wells two written pages.- Please sign one card, and the other is your confirmation.- He handed the older man a pen. Mr Wells only glanced over the list and signed it with a flourish.- Thank you.

-Thank you.- The man folded the confirmation in four and tucked it into his coat's inside pocket.- I hope that when I come next time, I'll want to talk to Master Matheo about tournament armour decorations, not another shipment of weapons.- He smiled faintly.- You don't have to walk me out, boy, I can find my way to the exit myself. Goodbye.

-Goodbye.- James bowed and watched the old man leave. When he disappeared from the elf's view, the boy walked to the front of the shop, glanced at the street, which was strangely busier than usual, and closed the door.- I have a nasty feeling that he's right after all,- he whispered, glancing once more at the list he was holding.