Last Life

AND HERE I WAS WONDERING when she’d show her face... The thing was that I had sensed the witch’s presence before I even started training. She was hiding in the shadows of the barn and watching my every move closely. My dual-wielding katas were partially performed for her benefit, so she could get a better look, so to speak, at the person she might be dealing with.

But I did not plan to go into Dragon Wings — that happened all on its own. I got carried away... Basically, Lada saw more than she was supposed to. That was precisely why she now looked slightly crazed. The sight of the fighting whirlwind must have been new to her.

“So, you finally came?” I answered with a question of my own. “Would you perhaps join me for lunch?”

Lada, ignoring my invitation, said tensely:

“You said you could fix everything. How? Look, I’ve already had a few healers try to cure me, but they never got anywhere.”

I shrugged.

“Healers have magic but, as contradictory as it may sound, they cannot see it. And that kind of work is too delicate to be left to the blind. They act according to instructions and rules left to them by blind teachers. I suspect that at some point many centuries ago, the first healers were seers like me, and they worked out simple methods of healing for their ‘unseeing’ pupils. Who in their turn blindly waste valuable mana in huge amounts where a single droplet would do.”

“What do you suggest?” Not a single sinew on the witch’s face twitched but, in her eyes, I saw a flicker of hope.

“I suggest that I serve as your eyes. With my help and hints, you could heal yourself.”

“What do you ask in return?”

“I need all the information you have about the Shadow,” I replied.

“Didn’t your mother tell you anything?” Lada asked in surprise.

“She did,” I lied without blinking an eye. “But I need more. Particularly given the fact that you come from far away. Perhaps in your homeland, they know more about the Shadow than we do in Vestonia.”

“Wait a minute,” the witch frowned. “I think I understand what’s going on here... You said you’d be leaving this town soon... Are you planning to go to the frontier?”

I again shrugged my shoulders and answered:

“You don’t have much time.”

The witch looked at me strangely, then responded:

“I hear you.”

Then she turned around and ducked silently into the darkness of the alleyway.

“Nice little chat...” I sighed and pushed open the door to hear Trixie and Bertrand chatting.

Despite the strange conversation with Lada, I was feeling optimistic. Seemingly, I had managed to intrigue her after all. But the fact she was hesitant to make contact was nothing strange — nothing was ever so easy with witches.

When I went into the room, Bertrand was sitting up on his bed giving Trixie a lecture while she hastily set the table.

“I’m telling you,” he pontificated, pointing his index finger up at the ceiling. “Monsieur Weber stepped on somebody’s toes. Somebody with a lot of influence. So much influence that all his riches were not enough to keep his son safe.”

The old man was clearly on the mend. In a week, he’d be all better. And if I could buy a magic healing potion, we’d have Bertrand on his feet even before that.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, wiping my hands on a towel and taking a seat at the table. Bertrand first tried to get up, but I stopped him. “Stay there, old fellow. You’re still weak. Trixie will feed you in bed.”

The old man shook his head, crushed, but did as instructed. I just barely heard him grumbling in dismay as if to say I was spoiling him and soon he would be acting like a lord.

Trixie meanwhile set in front of me a bowl of thick steaming soup and started agitatedly:

“This morning, they found another body on Fish Lane. Someone ripped out the poor man’s intestines and slit his throat.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “Another mercenary hired by Monsieur Weber?”

“You are correct, monsieur,” Trixie nodded. “It’s already number six.”

“I thought after all these deaths, everyone was perfectly aware that Monsieur Weber is not to be tangled with,” I snorted, working the spoon with satisfaction. “One dead body is an accident, two is a coincidence, but three is where it starts to become a rule. Was somebody so greedy they decided to try their luck?”

“More like reckless,” Trixie said sadly. “The dead man was called Red Tommy. He was friends with my Patrick. He told me everything... Tommy decided to risk it. Monsieur Weber is simply offering far too much money. A whole two hundred crowns!”

I snorted. What a cheapskate. He was going to give me an even harder time.

“He’s only offering that much out of desperation,” Bertrand put in his two cents. “But he shouldn’t be. Now nobody will work for him for any amount of money. Mercenaries even keep their distance from his house.”

“That’s for sure...” Trixie sighed, setting a tray of food on Bertrand’s lap. “Weber’s son will have to go to the frontier.”

I just smiled mysteriously and shook my head. They were in for a surprise soon.

And Leon Weber really had done someone a bad turn. His enemy was clearly not some common Vestonian citizen. They had enough reach to get Weber Junior on the rolls for the Shadow Patrol, then systematically killed off every mercenary willing to go to the frontier in his place. But strange as it may have been, that was now to my advantage.

“I’d like to see the next fool who decides to work for Weber and go off to the frontier in place of his son,” Bertrand said, shaking his head.

“Well, old fellow,” I laughed. “You have a unique chance. You’re the first to see him. In fact, you’re looking at him right now.”

After I said that, a ringing silence fell over the room.

* * *

Jacques took me to Monsieur Weber’s manor, which was located in the very center of Abbeville, in the same buggy belonging to Madame Richard. Stopping in front of the wide gates guarded by four men armed to the teeth, I whistled in admiration:

“That Weber really built himself quite a palace! Two stories! Two wings! This guy’s more duke than merchant. Jacques, remind me, what business is he in again? Maybe I should get into the same thing. Because now, looking at all this splendor, I’m getting the impression I’m in the wrong line of work.”

“I believe it’s mainly caviar and fish,” Jacques replied, pulling down his wolfskin hat. “I’ve also heard that he’s one of the main suppliers of pelts in the county.”

“Curious...” I stroked my chin, then loudly addressed the guards, who were already staring at us with suspicion: “Hey, servicemen! Tell your boss the Chevalier Renard wishes to speak with him. Say he wants to pay off his debt in person.”

Perhaps under different circumstances, the merchant would have thought up some reason to refuse me an audience but mentioning repaying my debt worked a special sort of magic. A few minutes later, I was inside the palace sitting on a soft sofa in front of a fireplace opposite the Weber family.

I arrived just as the manor’s inhabitants were gathering for something of a family council where, beyond my creditor, present also were his wife, eldest daughter twenty years of age, and fourteen-year-old son. And that gaunt bashful boy had inflamed the very passions that had the whole town abuzz.

My visit had clearly troubled Monsieur Weber. Thin as a beanpole, with a sunken gray face, the head of the Weber and Sons trading house was trying to quickly settle our issue, but his wife, a portly lady of fifty years essentially gave her husband an ultimatum to invite me to their evening tea. Based on how confidently Madame Weber ordered her husband around, I got the sneaking suspicion she was the true shot caller in the house.

The talkative Madame Weber immediately told me in living color that, in light of recent events, their family was now regarded with a certain level of disgrace in high society, and that even their old friends had stopped paying them visits.

Even Mademoiselle Lucy Weber, who just a few months ago was the most envied bride in the county, had not received a single call from friends or admirers in ages. Invitations to balls and social functions meanwhile were not even worth mentioning. Overall, it was all the fault of Monsieur Weber’s mystery enemy.

Upon mention of the mystery enemy, Leon Weber gave a slight frown, which made me realize that this enemy was not such a mystery to the family. In other words, the Webers were aware of the source of the threat and reason. But seemingly, they had not told any strangers, or their children.

While Madame Weber shared her troubles with me, Lucy was practically eating me alive with her eyes. Her plump cheeks burned red, while a happy smile danced on her brightly painted lips. I didn’t blame her. After so many days cooped up alone in this house, a young nobleman had dropped by. And despite his tarnished reputation, it was a big event for her.

But the young scion of the Weber family, Ruben, was despondent. The kid seemed to have made peace with his fate. The look in his eyes was just painfully resigned. To be fair, I should note that the kid had every reason to be grieving — even a fool could see that he wouldn’t last long without his parents to take care of him. Particularly in the kind of place where he was going. Although, I suspected the kid would be quietly strangled before he even arrived.

Basically, everything I was now seeing only played into my hand.

Bit by bit, our conversation steered away from less important matters down another, deeper channel — one about the injustice of life and how, most likely, the gods had turned against the Weber family.

“Many years ago, one of my husband’s caravans under the leadership of our eldest son was attacked by highwaymen,” Madame Weber said in a sunken voice. “My firstborn, Gerard, perished... And now the gods demand another sacrifice...”

An oppressive silence fell in the stone hall.

“Oh dear,” I said a few moments later. “The frontier is one of the most frightening and dangerous places in all Mainland. Not even all battle-hardened veterans are willing to venture there. But that is only half the trouble... Those drafted into the Patrol have to regularly make trips into the Shadow...”

I decided not to say that, if their son was lucky enough to survive the journey to the frontier, he would be very unlikely to survive a foray into the Shadow. Based on the mournful expressions on all their faces, they already knew that perfectly well. Even Lucy stopped smiling and making eyes at me. She squeezed her little brother’s hand, who was on the verge of bursting into tears.

I looked around at the Webers’ lifeless faces. I saw a look of doom in the mother and father’s eyes. They had clearly already tried everything. Seemingly, their “mystery enemy” was out of their league. I figured it would have been hard to imagine a better opportunity.

“You know,” I said with a smile after a brief pause. “There is a way out of this deeply troubling situation ...”

My words boomed like thunder on a clear day. The Webers, as if on cue, all raised their heads and stared at me at the same time with unblinking gazes like a family of owls that had just spotted a mouse on the forest floor.

“What do you mean?” the head of the household finally raised his voice.

“Simply that I would agree to take your son’s place in the Shadow Patrol. And as for your mystery enemy... I’m certain they will not kill a man from one of Vestonia’s most influential families. They’ll be too afraid.”

After a moment of bewilderment, the Webers all exhaled. Lucy clapped her hands with joy. A timid smile appeared on Ruben’s pale face. The father frowned, while the maman instantly lit up like a seasoned hound that had just smelled blood. She would have torn anyone to pieces for the sake of her beloved boy. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out she had already quietly packed her things to follow young Ruben into the Shadow.

“Of course, I do have terms...” I started but was interrupted.

“Whatever you wish!” Madame Weber shouted out and, overpowering her husband with a heavy gaze, added: “And it’s not up for discussion!” Then she turned back to me with a cheerier smile, saying, “we’re all ears, Chevalier Renard!”

I chuckled silently to myself. This was all coming together even better than expected. Madame Weber had just decided everything. Anything we discussed after this was a mere formality.

I wanted to rub my hands together but resisted the urge. I could ask for anything I wanted, and they would grant it. But I also wasn’t going to push too hard. The Webers were a wealthy and influential family. I wanted them to remember me first and foremost as a friend doing them a favor. In the future, my friendship with this family could bear fruit if, of course, they survived the war with their mystery enemy.

“Excellent,” I nodded. “Then here are my terms. First of all, you, Monsieur Weber, forgive my debt to you. Second, you pay off all the other debts I ask you to. Third, after signing the contract, you pay me one thousand silver crowns. But that is not all... From there, you prepare for me and my valet one of your finest covered wagons. I saw three of them next to your office. They’re simply magnificent. Naturally, the wagon should be harnessed to two draught horses. Beyond that, I will need a warhorse and two reserve horses. In addition... Feed for the horses, supplies for me and my valet, winter clothing, blankets, traveling cookware... Basically all the supplies you give your caravans and everything you were planning to send along with your son and his escort. Beyond all that, I will need a set of armor of my choosing and a weapon. And another couple minor things we can discuss later... For example, ten phials of healing potion made of red hollowstone dust, and the same amount of magic ink and perfume...”

Monsieur Weber sat stone-faced for the first part of my speech. But with each word I spoke, his brows crept higher up his face. When I finished, he asked a question I was not anticipating:

“Perfume? What need do you have for perfume?”

I shrugged:

“I am a nobleman. Perfume is an inseparable element of any self-respecting aristocrat’s attire.”

“Lucy and I will provide you with magic perfume!” Madame Weber shot out at once and gifted her husband an incinerating gaze.

Seeing that Monsieur Weber was slightly stalled, clearly turning on his internal calculator, I got up from the sofa and said with a bow:

“I assume you’ll need time to consider my offer...”

“Wait!” Madame Weber cried out and hopped up from her chair. “What’s to consider?! Of course we agree to all your conditions! Leon! Why aren’t you saying anything?!”

The head of Weber and Sons trading house shuddered and, surfacing from his thoughts, hurriedly stood from his chair.

“Yes, yes, but of course...” he started, glancing at his wife apprehensively. “Naturally we agree... You have our gratitude, chevalier, for your aid... I will go for an attorney right away to draw up the agreement...”

I left the Webers’ manor just before midnight, exhausted, but satisfied. The contract had been signed.

On top of that, I had cleared all my debts in this gods-forsaken little town with a nice little bonus to top it all off. Incidentally, they had not asked me why I wished to head out to the frontier instead of young Ruben. Madame Weber must have thought asking any questions might make me reconsider.

Jacques, watching the Webers’ servants load into the buggy a lacquered chest containing one thousand silver crowns, just shook his head and smiled.

“Where to, monsieur?” he asked when they were done loading.

“To the office of Paul Lepetit,” I said, wrapping myself in the warm coat. “We need to make preparations for tomorrow’s duel.”

* * *

The next day, I made it early to the duelyard. But my rival was already there. I had learned that Vincent de Lamar had two duels scheduled for that day before the one with me. I wanted to see him in action.

The first was already over. He easily cut down some baron, whose lifeless body was being dragged off by a servant as I arrived. The second duel meanwhile was supposed to start any minute. I had coincidentally made it just in time.

The stands, like the last time, were packed full of viewers. The people greeted my arrival with a howl of delight. And no wonder. I had determined at the bookmaker’s office that my personal rating as a fighter had gone up significantly in Abbeville. No, no. Most still thought de Lamar was going to kill me today, but the odds were one to five, which spoke for itself.

To say that upset me would be an understatement. I was hoping for a big score. Beetle, who had taken Paul Lepetit’s place, accepted my thousand silver crowns, wished me luck, and told me that Trebolt and everyone else who had the “great fortune” of meeting me in person had placed bets on me as well. I had to put on a false smile even though I was not feeling all that happy. God damn! What bullshit! Just one to five! For my fight against the Viscount de Angland, it was double that.

Before leaving, I enquired after Paul Lepetit’s health. Beetle answered cagily, saying he didn’t know where the former manager was now. But he hinted that he was somehow linked with the head of security for the bookmaker’s office, who had also disappeared, taking with him something very valuable and dear to Trebolt’s heart.

Beyond that, Beetle told me a secret — this was not the first instance of theft. Basically, Trebolt was not in the best mood. Well, best of luck to him!

In the stands, in the noble section next to lord of the land the Count de Brionne, my relatives were seated proudly — the Viscountesses de Gramont. Despite the cheery atmosphere dominating that section, those two were clearly in no laughing mood. Based on both of their pale faces, they already considered me as good as dead. But I had to give them their due — they were bearing it with dignity.

In the next section over, where well-to-do city dwellers were seated, I looked for Betty Gilbert and Vivienne Leroy. Oddly, they were sitting apart and even pretending not to know one another. Actually though, why should that be odd? Betty had already gotten what she wanted. Now she no longer needed to play the best friend of some nobody actress. She was sitting next to two ladies in luxury attire engaged in a vivid conversation. Her face was positively beaming with delight. Occasionally, she shot triumphant and vengeful looks my way.

Vivienne meanwhile was unrecognizable. Pale and sunken, I caught a strange burning look from her. I figured she had long ago stopped viewing me as Max.

Meanwhile, the crier announced the start of the fight, and the whole audience’s attention turned to the duelyard.

De Lamar’s opponent was some chevalier packed into a fancy armor suit and wielding a two-handed sword. Vincent, on the contrary, was wearing nothing for protection beyond a vest with dark blue velvet embroidery and bracers. He was armed, meanwhile, with a one-handed sword.

Overall, the duel reminded me strongly of the one I fought against the Viscount de Angland. People in the crowd picked up on that, as well. Many smiled and nodded in my direction.

I was seeing Vincent de Lamar today for the first time. Well, what could I say...? To be frank, he was exactly the kind of man I expected. A tall, broad shouldered blond with curly locks, blue eyes, a strong chin and a proud posture. Exactly what women liked, in my estimation. Compared that eagle of a man, Max was like a little gray sparrow. I was actually surprised my lookalike had the courage to enter the arena against such a predator.

His crisp animalistic movements, confident manipulation of the blade, cruel murderous gaze — de Lamar was a serious and deadly opponent. The kind that needed to be taken down once and for all.

In the first few seconds of battle, everyone in the stands could see that Vincent’s rival was doomed. A few lightning-fast lunges from de Lamar and the chevalier, whose name I could not recall, had three new wounds. The snow beneath his feet tinted red.

I had already started thinking Vincent was going to finish what he’d started but I was wrong. The ugly bastard finally noticed me and, with a bloodthirsty smirk, started tormenting his heavily panting rival. The duel reminded me of a jaguar hunting a tortoise, where the spotted predator easily and even playfully cracked open the shell of his slow-moving opponent with a set of sharp claws and teeth.

Every lunge and blow de Lamar made were accompanied by screams of excitement from the crowd. And every time he sunk his blade into an uncovered section of his opponent’s body, Vincent looked me directly in the eyes with a look that seemed to say, “you’re next!”

I glanced over at the stands. Yveline had completely wilted. Betty was jubilant. Vivienne couldn’t take her hatred filled eyes off of me, and Valerie’s seat was vacant. I didn’t care enough to guess where Max’s capricious sister might have gone to, so I went back to concentrating on the fight. Though it would have been more accurate to call it a beat-down.

Finally, de Lamar got sick of playing around and, to the deafening roar of the crowd, the chevalier dropped to the ground, his armor clanging. A dark brown spot started to spread beneath his body.

The crier announced Vincent de Lamar’s victory and said that, after a short break, my duel would commence. And during that break, I felt someone reach out and touch my back.

I turned sharply and met eyes with Valerie. Between the dark circles over her slightly sunken cheeks and the quivering lips — Max’s sister had clearly gotten a bad night of sleep.

“Renard...” she turned to me with an insistent voice. “Max... Stop this before it is too late. I mean, he’s going to kill you! Just say the word and we can fix this and call off the duel. Offer him money and, in a few days’ time, you’ll be in the capital. You can forget all about this backwater like a bad dream.”

“You’re funny,” I laughed and, walking right up to her face, said into her ear: “What do you really want from me, sister? Just don’t spin me another yarn about the head of the house’s wishes. The head of my house was executed along with my brothers. Or do you seriously believe I will heed the will of my traitor uncle who put our family in the grave? The same way you did with your mother’s sisters.”

Backing away, I stared into Valerie’s wide-open eyes. Her chest began to heave, and a light blush appeared on her sunken cheeks.

She wanted to say something else, but the crier’s ringing voice announced that the break was over. Throwing my coat down on the snow to reveal just a simple shirt, I unsheathed my blade. I swung it a few times, chuckled and winked at Valerie, who was still looking at me stunned.

“And what makes you so sure, sister, that I plan on dying today?”

Not waiting for her to respond, I turned and quickly marched onto the arena where de Lamar was already standing.

“Renard!” he bared his teeth. “I’m glad you’ve finally recovered from your injuries! I will not lie; I had already started doubting that you wanted to answer my challenge!”

The stands fell silent as if on cue. Everyone was now listening intently. The verbal exchange of the two opponents before a duel was an inseparable part of the experience. Our repartee would be retold in taverns and dives many times over after today.

“De Lamar!” I nodded shortly. “I must admit, I was surprised to get a letter demanding a second fight. I thought we’d settled matters the first time.”

“I hope you’ve realized that you won’t be able to move me to pity with tears again,” de Lamar smiled.

Based on the buzz from the stands, the crowd was on my opponent’s side. But I didn’t care what they thought. I had my own interests.

“Might it all be down to the money my aunt paid you?” I continued, unfazed, but quiet enough so only he could hear me. “By the way, how much was my head worth to the Legrands?”

“Curious,” de Lamar bared his teeth. My words didn’t embarrass him in the slightest. “I guess Viv was right about one thing...”

“You think I care what your lover said?” I laughed.

“Ah!” Vincent said in surprise, after which his lips spread into an acrid smile. “You know about that as well? You aren’t as simple as you seem, Renard.”

“You can’t even imagine how right you are,” I shot a smile back at him.

“Gentlemen!” the crier acclaimed in a ringing voice. “Let the fight commence!”

De Lamar drew his sword and, casting the scabbard aside, kept smiling as he started to circle me.

“Well?” I asked.

“What’s in this for you, Renard? Because no matter what, you’re going to die today.”

“There’s a law saying a person sentenced to death gets one last wish, isn’t that what they say? I don’t want to die wondering.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Money and my death not enough?” I snorted. “Alright... How about an exchange? Secret for secret? You tell me one, I tell you one. Fair’s fair. Agreed?”

“What secrets could a man like you possibly know?” de Lamar laughed.

The unhappy buzz from the stands caused by our slow pace didn’t seem to bother him one bit. Me either, by the way.

“Well for instance, one of the secrets of how I came into this world,” I shrugged. “Believe me, you’ll be very surprised.”

De Lamar’s ears perked up. He was probably thinking about Max’s father.

“Then I accept,” he nodded. “Your aunty promised Vivienne and I five hundred crowns. She paid half up front, and said we’d get the rest after your death. Don’t ask me why — I do not know.”

“Is my uncle aware?”

“As far as I know — no,” de Lamar shook his head. “Now your turn.”

I nodded at my thoughts, then drew a large mass of energy from my reservoir.

“You know?” I started in an icy voice all while softly walking on the snow toward my opponent. “In theory, you could already demand the second half with a clean conscience. The thing is that you actually did kill the moron Max Renard in your last duel. But the way it worked out, by the will of a very mighty being that loves action, the soul of a very dangerous and vindictive entity from another world was sent into this body. And against him, you don’t stand a chance...”

As I spoke, de Lamar’s face slowly stretched out in surprise. I had to give him his due. He quickly got himself in hand and even tried to lunge at me, but I was much faster.

One sharp burst and the tip of my blade severed de Lamar’s larynx. With two short footsteps, I got behind my opponent and froze. Vincent took a few more steps out of inertia. But then he stopped and, dropping his sword, clutched at his pierced throat with both hands trying to hold back the spurting blood. A moment later, he slowly fell to his knees and fell face first in the snow.

A cryptlike silence took hold over the stands, which one second later was broken by a heartrending woman’s cry. I turned my head to see Vivienne Leroy collapsing senseless into someone’s arms.

Not waiting for my victory to be announced, I silently walked out of the duelyard to an ambiguous buzz from the crowd. As I went past de Lamar’s servant, who on several occasions had brought me notes from his master and who was still in a state of stunned silence, I threw out shortly:

“Don’t forget about my spoils. You know where to find me...”

* * *

“I believe we have more visitors,” Jacques said in his malignant manner when we drove up to Madame Richard’s guesthouse.

“Well, that was to be expected,” I smiled.

I was now in a good mood, which nothing could overshadow. Even a visit from the restless Viscountesses de Gramont, whose coach was parked outside the guesthouse.

Half an hour earlier, I had come out of a bank belonging to the Craonne family, which had branches scattered through all Vestonia. There I had opened an account and deposited seven thousand three hundred silver crowns — a large portion of my earnings. Another two hundred I kept for future expenses.

When I drove up to the porch, Yveline popped out of the coach all red with a happy smile and skipped over to me:

“Cousin! Congratulations! You won! But how did you do it? No. Wait! Don’t tell me! You can tell us every detail on the ride back to the capital. My friends will lose their minds with envy!”

“You have my gratitude, dear cousin,” I smiled courteously. “Forgive me, but to what ride are you referring?”

Yveline’s eyes went circular, and she stared at me uncomprehendingly.

“But Max, you won... Now there’s nothing keeping you here. If it’s debts you’re worried about... You can pay them off later. I’m sure your creditors will agree to meet you halfway...”

“Forget about those debts, sweet cousin. I’ve settled the issue.”

“Then what’s the matter?” Yveline asked in surprise and glanced at Valerie standing next to her, searching for support.

Max’s blood sister was in no hurry to say anything. She was staring at me strangely, as if seeing me for the first time.

“Valerie? Why aren’t you saying anything? Tell him about daddy’s letter. He stated clearly that we must deliver Max to Herouxville.”

Valerie silently took Yveline by the hand, and the two of them walked over closer to the coach.

“Captain!” Valerie shouted. “You know what to do!”

“Yes, milady!” the mustached captain called back and hopped off his horse. After him, the other retinue men also spilled down onto the snow.

“Cousin!” Yveline shouted. I saw tears in her eyes. “Please! Don’t resist!”

Calmly watching the Count de Gramont’s retinue men surround me, I spotted some movement to the right out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head and my brows shot up into my forehead. Jacques was standing at my side with a small club in his right hand. He was clearly ready to fight on my side.

“Chevalier!” the captain addressed me, sneakily closing the gap like an animal. “Let’s not complicate matters.”

“Captain,” I said calmly. “Even if I had the desire to obey my uncle’s orders, I would not be able to comply. I am bound by obligations. Here, look...”

I said, extending him a scroll. The captain commanded his troops to stop, took the scroll, unfurled it and delved into the text. Once finished, he glanced at me darkly, then turned to Valerie:

“Viscountess, we’ll have to return to Herouxville without the Chevalier Renard. He is going to the frontier to serve in the Shadow Patrol.”

While the girls stared at me stunned, digesting the new information, I said with a smile:

“Viscountesses! I wish you a pleasant journey. And so your visit to Abbeville won’t seem pointless, tell my uncle that I’ll consider his offer.”

Without another second’s delay, I turned and headed quickly to my annex. Jacques walked by my side.

“What was that?” I asked him.

“What do you mean?” he asked in surprise with a mocking edge. “There were a lot of them, and one of you.”

“Ah, so that was it!” I shook my head. “That didn’t seem to bother you before. What changed?”

“Well, I have to protect my future employer,” Jacques grinned.

“Employer? What makes you think I need someone to work for me?”

“What do you mean?” Jacques was totally unconcerned by my question. “Whoever heard of an esteemed distinguished nobleman driving a wagon, brushing horses, or setting up camp by himself? It isn’t done.”

“Indeed,” I sighed. Because he was right. “You are aware where I’m going, right?”

“I am,” Jacques responded without a shadow of a smile.

“And you’re prepared to take the risk?”

“I am,” he answered firmly.

Walking toward my annex, I quickly compiled a list in my head of everything I had to do before leaving. Jacques’ aid would come in very handy. I wasn’t expecting any heroic deeds out of him, but the fact he would take on the duties of stable hand and wagon driver would take a lot off my plate.

We stopped next to my door. Our eyes met. Jacques was as serious as the day we discussed strykers. But he didn’t look away.

“Alright,” I said. “You’re hired. Let’s see what comes out of this. But I still don’t understand what drew you to heroism in your old age. You’ve earned plenty of money on those bets. You could settle down under the wing of Madame Richard in Abbeville and spend the rest of your days rolling in dough.”

“Well, first of all, I’m not so old,” Jacques objected with a smile. “And second, settling down next to the owner of a guesthouse and being a stable hand to a nobleman with the blood of one of the most elite and ancient families of Mainland flowing in his veins are two radically different propositions.”

“Solid reasoning,” I laughed. “Alright then... Go get ready. I give you one day to wrap up all your affairs. There won’t be any time later. We have lots of work to do.”

Jacques was long gone, but I was still standing in the doorway of the annex watching the slowly drifting snowflakes. I breathed in a lungful of frosty air and closed my eyes.

It was uncanny. Despite this being a different world, falling snow smelled exactly the same as back home... I thought back on Thais’ smile and my heart felt heavy. I hoped her soul was now in the very best of worlds and she was surrounded by good people.

Opening my eyes, I breathed a short sigh and shook my body like an animal. Alright, enough wallowing. Time to move on. I had a lot left to do, and my last life was not going to last forever...

End of Book One