Last Life

AFTER A BATH, A SHAVE, and a haircut, I got changed into clean clothes and only then did I finally feel the relief of being a real person again.

Bertrand, experienced valet that he was, looked me over with a cantankerous eye and smoothed all the wrinkles on my clothing. As he did, in a matter-of-fact voice, he told me that over the past two months, I had really filled out in the shoulders. So much so in fact that my wardrobe needed an update. Then as if from thin air, he extracted my jewelry box.

I saw no reason to weigh myself down with golden trinkets just to dine with my domestics, so I took from the box only my fox medallion and hung it around my neck. Meanwhile, I was praising myself silently for not taking it along on the trip. I’d already lost the valuable dagger. I wondered where it had gone. Most likely, it was at the bottom of the lake, or in the belly of the creature that ate the Duke.

When I closed the box, I noticed Bertrand staring at the center of my chest. I looked down and cleared my throat in dismay. Once the medallion made contact with my aura, it lit up with a dim silver glow. I spent a little while observing the purposeless glow and shut off the mana stream, turning the medallion back to its former state. I wondered what the point of that function was. Just light? I’d have to figure that out.

The old servant, looking on captivated as I worked my magic, didn’t let slip a single word. Which yet again confirmed his high-level qualifications.

In honor of my return, I wanted to again insist on a shared dinner. But this time, Bertrand and Jacques were in rare agreement that I should not sit down with the serfs tonight. When the time came for me to give them their freedom, we could return to the matter. Honestly though, Bertrand was clear at the end of his speech that regardless of the occasion, it was undignified for the young scion of an ancient noble house to share a meal with commoners who had not yet done anything to earn such an honor.

To be fair, I should note that I was the only person in the manor to experience any discomfort whatsoever with the strict class division. None of the others gave a second thought to such high-minded matters.

In the end, I had dinner with Jacques served by Bertrand and Kevin, who had ears like a pair of radar dishes. While setting out the plates of food and pouring the drinks, he was hanging on my every word.

On my request, Bertrand started priming me for life in the capital. Meanwhile, in passing, he advised me to let a few small morsels of information slip in front of Kevin. He then would recount all my adventures to the others in the kitchen.

I didn’t care about Bertrand’s advice. So I tried to be as eloquent as possible around Kevin. My retelling of the fight against the pack of hyenas was particularly lively and action-packed. Based on Kevin’s bulging eyes and shivering hands, the guys in the kitchen were in for a real treat. And that was the “official” version. I said nothing about my adventures in the Shadow, the Ghost, the strykers, the shadow wolves, or the lake monsters.

After dinner, I invited Jacques and Bertrand up to my office to continue the conversation somewhere Kevin wouldn’t overhear. I figured he’d heard enough already.

“I assume you want to now talk about what really happened?” Jacques asked with his classic wry tone after closing the door tightly behind him.

“Lock it as well, if you would,” I said, nodding at the key. “To make sure nobody happens to get inside. Bertrand, the window...”

The old man nodded understandingly and, drawing the heavy drapes, started lighting candles.

“Indeed...” Jacques snorted, locking the door.

When everything was ready, I pulled my backpacks out from under the bed and started setting them on the table while the two men looked on tensely. Gradually, the entire tabletop was covered with little bags of various sizes.

“What are those?” Jacques smiled with poorly concealed trepidation. “While you were running away from hyenas, you had the good fortune to stumble upon an ancient treasure hidden in the valley?”

“Not exactly,” I responded with a smirk and undid the draw strings of one of the bags. As an aside, it was sewn out of scraps of River Terror leather.

After that, I untied the other bags. In total, I had twenty-six. In the end, the candles proved unnecessary. The dark room lit up with hundreds of varying shades of magic light.

My confidants’ faces were a sight to behold. Shock, awe, disbelief, tingling in their fingertips and, of course, excitement...

Jacques was the first to start coming to his senses. He turned his head toward me and sputtered out.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I can’t read your mind. But if you think these are bruts, you’re right. That’s exactly what they are.”

Jacques turned his chin to one side and touched his hand to his neck.

“But how? And how so many? Did you rob the royal treasury?”

“No,” I shook my head. “This is my harvest from the Shadow. And another thing...”

I took out a snake leather bundle and unfolded it on the floor. On top, I placed the two snake fangs, tunic, and backpacks made of the red leather of a shadow cave bear. And on top of all that, I dumped out another bag of teeth, fangs, spines, mandibles, and claws from magic creatures — payment I’d received for my services as a seer from relatives of the Lao.

Jacques gulped loudly and Bertrand gave a muted gasp.

“You ventured beyond the Bound?” Jacques whispered, astonished.

“Yes,” I replied, sitting in an armchair with my legs crossed. “It isn’t the friendliest place. I can tell you that. It is a place full of true jungles teeming with predatory and poisonous creatures, which were constantly trying to eat me alive. I had to kill a couple of them and smear my body with their toxic acid. Vile stuff, but it did a good job scaring off predators.”

“Smear yourself in w-what now?” Bertrand asked, hiccupping slightly.

“Poison from red ants,” I replied calmly. “They’re insects the size of a cucumber.”

“But how did you survive?” the old man asked, placing his hand to his forehead.

I nodded at one of the amber crystals and replied:

“Thanks to the magic of these bruts, I’m now pretty hard to poison. Anyway, it’s a long story, and I promise we’ll get back to it in greater detail. But now I wanted to discuss something with you... Get settled in. It’s going to be a while.”

Jacques and Bertrand traded glances and almost at once fell onto their chairs.

“First of all,” I started. “I want to talk about Kevin.”

Bertrand nodded, while Jacques was clearly not expecting the boy to come up.

“I see you look surprised,” I said to him. “Particularly after that introduction...”

I chuckled and ran a hand over my massive pile of loot.

“You are right,” Jacques snorted. “But now that I’ve studied your character a bit, I assume the boy is important to you for some reason. Yes, and Bertrand is constantly taking care of him. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn he’s more than the mere son of a merchant from the Foggy Isles.”

“Right you are,” I nodded. “Kevin is gifted. A future alchemist, to be exact.”

Jacques grunted in surprise and, a moment later, his smile grew even wider.

“I was not expecting to hear that... And it explains a lot.”

I got up from the chair and took from the nearest bag an amber crystal the size of a fist. Weighing it in my hand, I said:

“The thing is that Kevin’s gift has yet to fully awaken. It needs time. At least six months, maybe a year. If we try to awaken it too soon, he will either die or end up crippled. Neither his body, nor his spirit are ready for such trials.”

“You wish to circumvent the royal edict on magic guilds?” Jacques asked, staring captivated at the amber brut in my hand.

“Yes,” I responded shortly. “By law, I should immediately tell the royal chancery about the boy. But there’s one hitch... I have no desire to explain to them how I recognized the boy’s gift, much less that his gift has yet to fully awaken. Beyond that, I have already heard a bit about the methods used in the guild schools to awaken gifts. In a word, I’d rather not hand off Kevin to a bunch of quacks.”

Jacques stroked his chin and said:

“But the edict stipulates that he will have to be surrendered to the guild sooner or later. Even if he is your serf...”

“And I am not opposed to that,” I nodded and smiled. “He has a brilliant future as a mage. Just not right away. At first, I want to prepare him for a gift awakening ritual which I will be personally conducting. The energy in this amber brut should be enough... In fact, it will be more than enough. And considering the fact that the guild performs the awakening ritual with bruts smaller than this one, we don’t have to worry about Kevin.”

“I assume my participation in the process will also be required?” Jacques guessed.

“Indeed,” I replied. “As I already said, Kevin is not ready for the ritual in body or spirit. I want to ask you to strengthen his body. He must put on muscle. And Bertrand, you educate him. I want him to enter the guild as a fully-fledged gifted person who can stand up for himself and won’t fall face-first into mud at society functions. So I as his mentor will not have to be ashamed of him.”

Jacques and Bertrand traded significant glances and promising smiles. Based on their clever expressions, the unsuspecting Kevin had a fun few months ahead of him.

“Okay, that’s settled...” I concluded and set a brut in place. “Now, let’s talk about our plans for the near future.”

I nodded cleverly at my loot and said:

“Most likely, you’ve already guessed that this is only the beginning.”

* * *

“Monsieur lieutenant!” I came, putting on a welcoming smile. “I’m happy to see you in good health! May I treat you to a glass of wine? By chance, I picked up a couple bottles of twenty-year Riagne when I was in Sardent.”

Jean Tassen appeared outside my manor at exactly noon. When Bertrand told me he arrived, I gave a sidelong smile. Most likely, he’d had a sleepless night. I could only imagine his impatience. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn he had been counting the minutes until noon. Showing up early would be untactful and a breach of etiquette. After all, he wasn’t even my commander. Most likely, the papers from the royal chancery exempting me from service had come in a long time before.

“Thank you, chevalier,” he nodded. “I appreciate it.”

“Please,” I pointed to an armchair in front of the fireplace and sat in the one next to it.

While we got seated and traded meaningless phrases, Bertrand deftly set out wine glasses and filled them. Then, out came three bowls of fruit and a pair of small plates of goat and sheep cheese.

“Thank you, Bertrand,” I nodded. “You may go to make sure nobody bothers us.”

When my old servant had closed the door behind him, I glanced at Tassen and asked:

“To what do I owe the pleasure, monsieur lieutenant?”

Jean Tassen set his glass on the table and gave me a gloomy look.

“Do you even have a near appreciation of what is going on in the fort and in town?”

“Hm…” I feigned surprise. “I’m not quite sure I understand.”

“Ever since your triumphant return,” the lieutenant said with angry reproach. “I’ve had a hard time keeping a lid on unrest in the fort. Lieutenant Brossard was practically thrown off the walls into a sewage ditch!”

“I must say, a bath like that might be good for a vile man like him,” I shrugged and, as if it were nothing, took a small sip from my glass. “I still cannot understand how a dunderhead like Brossard was able to reach that position. His long-time benefactor Louis de Rohan must have interceded on his behalf. Isn’t that right?”

The lieutenant wanted to spew out an enraged tirade, but the last thing I said made him shut his trap and get himself together.

“Lieutenant,” I continued. “I am sincerely sorry for your old comrade in arms, Lieutenant Vincent, whose place was taken by the hog Brossard after his unexpected and very strange fall down a flight of stairs. I am also perfectly aware that you as a true friend took on the burden of caring for the bedbound Vincent as well as his wife and two daughters.”

“Vincent carried me on his back for a week after our party fell victim to a wildling ambush...” Tassen stated grimly. “I owe him my life.”

“I understand that perfectly,” I nodded. “And I admire your nobility.”

“Baron von Holtz told me that if not for you, they’d have died,” the lieutenant came, staring me right in the eyes.

“And if not for them, I’d have died,” I shrugged. “Things like that can only be seen by those who sit on the sidelines behind their underlings thinking up nonexistent ailments to get out of doing their job.”

“It pleases me to hear that the de Gramonts have not forgotten about honor and military valor,” Tassen came tit for tat.

“Thank you, monsieur lieutenant.”

“Still, you never should have rocked the boat...” he shook his head with a heavy sigh.

“Why not?” I smiled. “Four nobles from famous families come back from patrol only to be met with public questioning about why they were still alive. And by who? Some cretin. And a commoner to boot.”

“Yes, but...” the lieutenant came dubiously.

“Why did you not send out a search party?” I asked head on.

“The captain forbid it...”

“So we had the right to question Brossard. In fact, it all happened in front of a representative of His Majesty’s secret chancery. He never let slip a single word in Brossard’s defense.”

“What do you mean?” Tassen asked in sincere surprise.

“Were you not told that Gobert was in the room?” I snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”

“No...” Tassen frowned and his cheeks went crimson. “What a rat...”

“When we arrived, the two of them were sharing a nice meal at an opulently appointed table,” I chuckled.

The lieutenant clenched his fists and teeth.

“It would only be right for monsieur mayor to find out,” I advised casually.

Tassen gave a pensive nod.

“Also,” I said, pouring us both more wine from the decanter. “It would be wonderful if monsieur mayor could take some time to find a temporary replacement for our valiant captain.”

I felt the weight of the lieutenant’s gaze on me.

“You most likely already know that I challenged Louis de Rohan to a duel, yes?”

“Yes, all Toulon is betting on the captain’s death,” the lieutenant nodded, but quickly stunned me with news. “But now, the captain is denying everything. He has his reasons. A lot of people know about your duel with Vincent de Lamar. And that de Rohan, who wears a sword on his belt more for decoration than anything, doesn’t stand a chance against you. And so, he keeps saying that there were no witnesses to your conflict as would be required for a proper challenge.”

Aw heck! What was going on now?

“When the captain insulted me, there were twenty men in front of my manor,” I objected.

“Commoners,” the lieutenant corrected me. “Five of them were even serfs, and two your servants, and thus have a conflict of interest. The guards aren’t talking. And poor Mollet is scared as hell. But he also is not of noble blood. So it’s your word against de Rohan’s...”

Instead of cursing and spewing mud at the captain, I gave a restrained smile, which took the lieutenant by surprise.

“Oh well,” I shrugged. “All the worse for him.”