Chapter 1 : The Feast (Part 5)

By the time all of the performers were through and most of the guests had finished their second or third course of dessert the feast had been going on for several hours and the guests had been thoroughly involved in their revelry undisturbed for much of that time. Vasper took the opportunity to make use of one of the more unique features of the great hall by employing a special technique that he had discovered by accident several years earlier.

Sitting back in his chair, Vasper closed his eyes and willed his body into complete relaxation and internal silence. Immediately he was immersed from head to toe in a complex cacophony of noise – the result of a quirk in the room’s design that somehow gathered, amplified and perfectly relayed all the myriad sounds in the hall onto the very spot where Vasper now sat. Slowly, Vasper willed his mind to filter out all that was unnecessary – ambient noises that seemed to have no particular origin, the busy sounds of his servants as they went about their duties and even the gentle blowing of the snow that fell outside.

Vasper analyzed a hundred different conversations about nothing particularly important. At one table he recognized the raised voices of Lords Dalbro and Florav in heated debate about Unver’s controversial political alliances, while another table hosted a casual conversation about the state of farming in Serapis in which Baron Meris claimed that there were far too few cattle being raised in the northern marches and Lord Tiralan asserted this was because sheep were the only livestock worthy of Unverian farmland. Meanwhile Lady Treala was having a wonderful time gossiping with friends and acquaintances about various ladies of court that Prince Fedyk had supposedly gone to bed with.

Vasper flashed quickly from conversation to conversation, sorting useful information from useless information until he heard one of the voices he had been searching for. Willing himself to filter out every other sound in the room, Vasper concentrated all of his focus and attention on the whispered conversation:

“..should do it now!” Madray was clearly agitated.

“Cease your ridiculous prattling and use your brain for once,” came Bey’s response, “the thane is not defenseless.”

Madray sounded incredulous, “Be reasonable! Vasper’s pathetic band of guards against all of ours? We’d roll that miserable sack and his soldiers over in no time!”

Vizina’s sultry voice interjected, “The baron has a point, my lord. With all our supporters behind us we would certainly be victorious.”

“Oh indeed we would, my lady,” Bey replied sardonically, “and once the resulting bloodbath had subsided we would find ourselves the rulers of a large pile of noble's corpses.”

Vizina responded nonchalantly, “I could use my feminine wiles on the poor, lonely thane. No man has ever resisted--“

“--Absolutely not!” Madray was livid, “I will have to be dead before I'd let that greasy bone-bag touch you!”

“Be careful what you wish for, Madray. That kind of thing can be arranged.” Bey’s voice brought calm back to the conversation. “However it wouldn’t work anyway. The only weakness he has for the weaker sex is a penchant for maiming and torturing them – hardly productive.”

“Well what do you suggest then?” Madray asked.

“That we use his weaknesses against him. The key to Vasper’s undoing is a delicate thing and one that requires a certain finesse.” Bey lowered his voice to a barely perceptible whisper, “In a few minutes I am going to have a little talk with our thane, and the rest of you are going to --“

“--My lord-“

Vasper’s delicate concentration shattered at the sound of a servant’s voice in his ear.

“Count Bey requests a private audience with you to discuss matters of mutual benefit.”

Vasper took a moment to collect himself and then nodded his assent.

“Very well, tell the Count that I will meet him outside on the eastern walkway in a few minutes.”

“Yes my lord,” replied the servant before walking off toward Count Bey’s table.

Vasper gave instructions for the servants to continue dispersing food and drink as necessary and then stood to go to his audience with Count Bey. As he headed toward the stairs Vasper felt a strong grip on his arm and stopped to look back at the hulking and heavily armoured figure of his guard captain. Kast was easily the most physically capable man Vasper had ever met and was unflappably loyal to his lord – qualities that had allowed him to rise quickly through the ranks of Serapis’ royal army, into his current position as Vasper’s personal bodyguard. Vasper had taken pride in teaching his captain the arts of subtlety and perception, which Kast had picked up quickly despite his thuggish appearance.

“I don’t like you going out amongst the vultures without protection. I think it’s a very bad idea – as like as not to get you killed. Or worse.” Kast whispered as he gazed across the hall with a heavy lidded glare that would have caused most men to soil themselves, were it cast in their direction.

“I don’t doubt every one of these ignoble snakes has a fang or two up his sleeve with your name on it, especially Count Bey. I’ve been watching him all night and I’ll scourge myself for a week if he isn’t the most poisonous adder in the pack. Mark my words, my lord - if you go down there unguarded you’ll live to regret it. Or maybe you won’t live long enough for regrets.”

Vasper nodded knowingly and whispered in response.

“Your senses are quite correct, my friend – Bey is exactly what you suspect and more. But do not forget whom you are talking to. After all, was it not I who taught you to sense such things? Do not trouble yourself overly about the count. There is little that goes on in his mind that I do not already know about. Everything will go as planned, just be ready when I need you.”

Kast reluctantly let go of Vasper’s arm.

“As you command, my lord. I’ll be ready.” Kast watched as Vasper walked down the dais stairway and disappeared out the eastern doorway.

Chapter 2 : The Feast (Part 4)

A flurry of casual conversation (mostly perpetrated by members of the lesser houses, who apparently lacked the sophistication to recognize when their silence was expected) went on for a few minutes, sparked up by the latecomers’ dramatic entrance. Eventually those engaged in conversation realized their mistake and the scattered voices tapered off into silence. All eyes turned to the front of the great hall as the guests’ attention focused on the most important attendee of the mid-winter feast – the host.

Vasper looked over the nobles and smiled, confident in his plans for the evening. Time for the Thane to do what he does best.

The Thane rose from his high seat, the very embodiment of the kind of grace and composure that only the most noble of nobles could aspire to. He was a tall man whose normally thin frame had been even more emaciated than usual as of late. Tonight, however, the Thane appeared hale and vigorous, his size augmented by a luxurious, multi-layered robe that hung perfectly about his body, draping him in various shades of crimson. It was no coincidence that he had chosen to wear the colour of blood tonight. Long hair, jet black, boldly framed the pale, yet strangely darkened face of one who saw little of the sun, even on the odd occasion when it chose to shine upon the people of Unver’s frigid northern province. A long plaited goatee decorated the Thane’s chin and contrasted his deep set eyes, blue and bright as precious stones, which looked out from under a heavy brow and missed little that went on around them.

Vasper smiled serenely as he climbed down a short flight of steps to the very front of the dais, the speaker’s platform. Vasper stretched out his arms, palms toward the ceiling, in a stance that conveyed openness and welcome, and addressed the hall with a strikingly rich baritone voice that both soothed and compelled all who could hear.

“Welcome to my hall, noble houses of Serapis. You truly are the greatest and the mightiest of all that Unver has to offer – I stand before you, both honoured and delighted to have such mighty folk as my guests for tonight’s mid-winter feast!”

If the nobles had heard anything Vasper had said, they showed little enthusiasm aside from some scattered clapping near the back.

“Tonight we celebrate the early thawing of our cold and beautiful land. You have all proven, year after year, that you are not subject to the whims and fancies of winter, nor frightened of the ice and snow that covers your homes and threatens the very safety and provision of your great houses. You have all survived, and that is an admirable thing.”

At this, the guests perked up somewhat and responded with half-hearted cheering and clapping.

“The coming of such an early spring has not been seen in more than twenty years – how much more then should we celebrate such blessings! Indeed, though the snow gathers upon the ground outside, my heart is warmed to be in such dignified and honourable company.

“May your houses be graced with all the warmth, security and happiness that you all so richly deserve. I may be your Thane, but I count myself truly privileged and fortunate to be surrounded by so many loyal friends.”

A few of the more unsubtle guests coughed dryly at “loyal” and “friends”. It was painfully obvious that nobody here fit particularly well into either category.

Vasper looked bemused, “Left you all speechless have I? Can it be that you have never seen your Thane throw a party before?! Well let us rectify that now, my friends. I have only one command for you tonight – avail yourselves liberally of the hospitality of my hall!

“Here you will find every kind of delicacy and amusement one could possibly imagine – and if you can imagine something else, you have but to ask and it will be provided! One final thing – thank you all for honouring me with your presence tonight! Let the feast begin!”

With that final command a crew of servants who had seemed quite invisible moments before sprung into action, carrying large platters piled high with an assortment of delicious food offerings from distant and exotic locales that most of the guests had neither been to nor in many cases heard of. For the more daring tastes, foreign fare was in high demand. Particularly well received by many were the pungently spiced skewers of meat and vegetables, served alongside peppered brown rice and stuffed pastries whose complex flavours conjured up the arid desert country of Hadrok from which it came. Others found the savoury cuts of roasted meat with cheesy potatoes and thick gravy from Kiral Tor irresistible, or strips of delicately seasoned lamb wrapped in thick flat bread shells that was a specialty of the island of Myrdra.

Traditionalists were treated to all of their local Unverian favourites, especially anything involving the specially seasoned sausages, sharp onions and tangy cabbages that were staples in most Unverian homes. The Unverian ale was especially appreciated and was widely considered (by Unverians) to be the best ale in the known world. Those with a more refined palate (a characteristic that seemed in-born in most aristocratic families) preferred to nibble on an assortment of cheeses and breads from Sorenne, while sipping (and evaluating) a variety of fabulously expensive wines.

For dessert, the Thane’s master chefs had prepared a collection of exquisite pastries, creams, ices, cakes, pies and every other type of sweet one could imagine, all of which contained liberal amounts of Unver’s finest chocolate (also widely considered the best). Vasper had even had special insignia plaques made for all the noble houses, each carved from a solid block of the dark delight. Along with this was served a plethora of the juiciest, most delectable fruits from a number of different countries; Vasper himself had always been particularly fond of stuffed dates, specially sent to him from the desert orchards of the Hadrokene seti.

Of course, the true measure of a good feast is not only in its food, but its entertainment and Vasper had arranged to have the best of both. Starting with Unver’s finest fiddlers and harpists, the entertainment moved from act to act, each one progressively more exciting than the last. Drummers were followed by dancers who were followed by storytellers, jugglers, tumblers, fire-eaters, acrobats and sword fighters. All were building up to the climactic performance of Zool the magician, who awed the great hall with a thrilling mixture of illusion and fireworks, culminating in his final act – the disappearance (and subsequent reappearance on one prominent Duke’s head) of a gigantic festival turkey.

All in all, it was a lavish and grandiose affair that seemed a smashing success in Vasper’s eyes. The feast had come across exactly as he had planned it to come across – a shallow attempt by a desperate leader to appease the opponents mounting against him. Vasper knew quite well that with this last feat of manipulation his image in the eyes of the nobles was that of a pathetic, almost pitiable fool who had gotten into things over his head and was now clawing desperately to get out with his head attached. The nobles would pounce on such a perceived weakness as surely as a barracuda that smells blood in the water.

Chapter 1 : The Feast (Part 3)

By now most of the nobles and their parties had finished entering the great hall and were taking their seats around the feast tables. Vasper had decided not to assign seating for the feast; much insight could be gained about the various friendships and alliances between the noble houses by allowing them to make their own decisions about such matters.

There were few surprises; by the time seating had finished many of Vasper’s suspicions about such relationships had been confirmed. He had always had a talent for ferreting out information about people that they might prefer remained hidden.

By the time the festival bell rang to officially commence the Thane’s yearly feast, the leaders of three of the great houses had not yet arrived. Within moments of the bell, all three appeared, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they had not arrived on time. After several minutes of casually sauntering through the hall, stopping at various tables to speak to friends and acquaintances, all three parties took their seats at the heads of the three most prominent tables.

It was a calculated gesture of defiance on the part of the latecomers, meant to demonstrate their disdain for the Thane’s wishes and their refusal to be subject to his will. Vasper was not surprised in the least and had expected something of this sort from them. They were the three most influential nobles of the Thane’s court, and also the three who had first orchestrated his overthrow.

Baron Madray had been the first to enter after the festival bell. He had recently inherited the title from his uncle, the long-standing Baron of House Bertos, who had died under mysterious circumstances. Madray was young, impetuous and rash. He preferred action over diplomacy and once committed to the cause of overthrowing the Thane, had suggested an immediate and pre-emptive attack on the Thane’s estate.

Madray would have loved nothing more than a violent and bloody invasion in which his compatriots might valiantly fall in battle, leaving him to assume the high seat of command after personally taking the Thane’s head for a trophy. Vasper had looked into the young Baron’s heart and knew it was no coincidence that the old Baron had been poisoned soon after his four heirs had met their ends in various but equally suspicious ways. Madray had been the only male left in the line of succession.

The Baron was accompanied by a large entourage of personal friends that consisted mostly of little known lords and ladies from the kind of minor houses that Madray himself had come from before inheriting the barony. They walked with an air of arrogant petulance that reminded Vasper of the sort of schoolyard troublemaker that bullied other children while hiding in the shadow of a larger and meaner sibling. Vasper found it endlessly amusing that Madray still wore that same expression.

Behind Madray came the Lady Vizina, who carried the practiced detachment typical of one of Unver’s most aristocratic families, though she herself was little older than Madray. Vizina had been recently widowed when her significantly older husband, Viscount Gorbadon, had died of lung fever.

It was a curious death for such an affluent individual as Gorbadon; lung fever was rarely so severe and was easily treatable for anyone with enough money to buy the services of a surgeon or mage. There was no question that Gorbadon had had that kind of money.

Vasper knew from experience that a skillful thrust with a small blade of sufficient quality could create the illusion of lung fever. He was also aware that Vizina had secretly trained in the use of such weapons and rarely went anywhere without at least half a dozen tiny daggers hidden somewhere on her person.

Unbeknownst to old Gorbadon, Madray had often shared Vizina’s bed during her marriage. Now that both Madray’s uncle and Vizina’s husband were out of the way, the two had secretly planned to marry, and in doing so unite their two great houses into an even greater house that could rule over all the rest. Vasper had always found noble politics intriguing.

Vizina was accompanied mostly by bodyguards, as was her custom. She had always been somewhat paranoid about her personal safety, but especially now that her numerous male relations were all eager to become the next Viscount. Apart from bodyguards, Vizina brought with her several ladies-in-waiting who doted upon her with the utmost devotion and care (whether real or feigned; an aristocrat cared little so long as the servants did as they were told).

Last to enter the great hall was Count Bey, the oldest and most influential of the three. Apart from the Thane himself, Bey was considered to be the most powerful noble in Serapis. Were the nobles’ plans to succeed, Bey would likely become the next Thane. Vasper had never trusted him.

Bey had been the leader of his house for over 40 years. Indeed, on the surface he appeared to be a wise and venerable leader who exuded morality and noble intent. It was only when one dug deep into the soil of his past that Bey’s dark heart was revealed for what it was. Vasper excelled at such digging.

Vasper had long ago discovered that Bey’s sordid history was no freer of murder and deceit than Madray or Vizina. He had been the firstborn son and heir of Torbal, a cruel and manipulative Count who was much reviled by his contemporaries. At the age of sixteen Bey had decided that he would wait no longer for his inheritance and in one evil night single-handedly murdered his parents, siblings and several of his closer cousins, some of whom were not grown past infancy.

Bey had blamed the entire affair on the faithful manservant who had tended him since infancy. The servant had been publicly tortured to death in front of an audience as part of Bey’s inauguration ceremony and the Count had spent the last four decades burying his past beneath a lifetime of seemingly benevolent rule.

With a minimum of pomp, Bey took his seat, followed by his wife, several close advisors and various soldiers and guards. At the tail end of the group was a darkly robed and hooded individual who acted (unconvincingly) as though he were an indentured servant of some sort. Vasper wasn’t fooled, but he thought it best to play along for the time being.

From the high seat of the great hall, Vasper grinned inwardly.

All the players are set - The game is about to begin.

Chapter 1 : The Feast (Part 2)

From the high table, Vasper’s gaze moved to take in the great hall that would soon be full of rivals and conspirators. It was a visual tour that never failed to inspire feelings of security, pride and satisfaction – all for good reason.

Nothing about the hall was left to chance or coincidence. Every detail down to the tiniest fixture and decoration was arranged with exact precision and nothing in that room existed except by Vasper’s express purposes.

The room was absolutely perfect, which Vasper well knew, as the design was his own and had been executed with utter meticulousness by Prince Fedyk’s very own craftsmen. Their commissioning had cost him a rather large fortune, but had proven well worth the price; the work was flawless.

The room’s design itself was a work of dark genius, put together by a man who had spent many long years studying the subtle arts of persuasion, manipulation and coercion. The great hall had been the culmination of all Vasper’s art and skill and served its intended purpose ruthlessly and efficiently.

Enormous square stones lined the floor of the immense circular hall, arranged in powerful patterns that evoked strength, solidarity and trustworthiness in those the Thane wished to impress or inspire. Large sculpted murals built into the towering granite walls colourfully depicted grandiose scenes of victory and conquest from the lives of the Thane’s more legendary ascendants and served as a manifest reminder of the majesty and potency from which the Thane was descended. The ceiling of the great hall was an intricate collaboration of sharply angled vaults and smooth, grand arches that elegantly crowned the room in jet black ebony and left the visitor with a sense of being part of something much larger and grander than themselves.

To the unprepared visitor of this room, the Thane was a man who was noble and benevolent and larger than life. He was a man who could be depended on and trusted implicitly - a man who commanded respect and deserved fealty. Visitors to the mighty hall wanted desperately to please the Thane and earn his favour, a fact which he had exploited ruthlessly in many negotiations.

When dealing with rivals and opponents, Vasper’s subtle rearrangement of the great round room would produce a darker, more sinister effect. The same great floor tiles became the massive stepping-stones of a cruel, autocratic behemoth. Cold granite walls brandished furious images of reckless and maniacal acts of violence, bloodshed and ruination attributed to the Thane’s murderous lineage, and therefore also to him. The sharp vaults and wide arches of the dark stone ceiling seemed at first glance to be the perching places of a thousand malevolent shadows, ever scrutinizing those under their authority. At second glance, and every glance after, the ceiling seemed to descend ever lower and lower until finally it became, in the mind’s eye, the vaulted seal of a gruesome sarcophagus that crushed and oppressed all within its walls.

More than one of his opponents had found themselves hastily submitting to the Thane’s will for no other reason than to get themselves outside of the walls of that great and terrible tomb. There were few who could resist Vasper’s intimidations, and such as there were had almost finished taking their seats.

For the feast, Vasper had gone a different direction altogether with the Thane’s hall. Garish tapestries and tacky banners adorned the walls and ceiling, complimenting the rest of the bright and cheerful décor. The atmosphere in the hall spoke of festivity, ease and levity. It was his most insidious design and was carefully crafted to subtly, yet irresistibly put its guests off their guard while also distracting their attention from matters of serious thought or suspicion.

The arrangement was perfect and its effect – devastating; the nobles’ conspiracies were about to come into fruition, but the last laugh would be on the conspirators.