Ch 7: Dabbling

All spellcraft performed outside of the Union is a crime under Drakthiss law. The Union has the authority to investigate all suspected illegal uses of magic and may draw on local guards in both investigations and arrests. Punishments however must be decided by a council of both Guild of Law and Union representatives along with a neutral representative from among the nobility.

• Magic and Imperial Law Volume IV

They returned to the manor and Solomon let himself out of the carriage. He watched as the servants got out of their wagons with bundles under their arms. Dresses, tools, books, trinkets, it was a fair mix of everything. There were two crates and a barrel of foodstuffs that needed to be unloaded as well, but most of what he’d ordered would be delivered to the manor over the next week.

Aside from having his letters sent out, putting in orders, and meeting the priest in town he’d also left a note with the mayor, requesting that he visit the manor. He’d been disappointed that he wasn’t in his office. He had a number of questions about the nearby forest and mine and believed the mayor would be the best man to ask.

He walked inside, pushing the door open. Two servants had stayed behind so the parlor still had a fire burning. He walked toward it, stripping off his coat, and sat down in one of his uncle’s old, worn-in, leather chairs. His arms and shoulders ached from cleaning the library and his feet were sore from walking on the rough cobblestone streets

He closed his eyes. His body was tired, but his mind was moving quickly, assessing everything he’d learned and seen. They were unused to nobility of any kind in Moonfallow, particularly a name such as his. He hadn’t been able to find any signs of his uncle’s former servants or anyone who had spoken directly to him. The town was not in a good state either. The streets weren’t properly cared for and a number of public buildings were falling apart. That was unacceptable to him now that it was considered part of his domain.

There was also the matter of the missing girls. He’d need to go and inspect the guard and their methods himself, but he wanted to meet with the Mayor first to hear his explanation. He also wanted to review the mayor’s books. Aside from needing to know why things were in such disrepair there should be a portion of the people’s taxes set aside for the master of Moonfallow, which now meant him. He didn’t necessarily need the money right that instant, but he did need to know where it was.

He summarized everything in his mind, deciding which to tackle first and when he was done he heard a servant’s approach.

“T-tea sir?” asked Felicity.

He opened his eyes and saw that she was holding a tray, her hands trembling a bit. He looked a lot like his brother Jude, so he wasn’t too surprised at her discomfort.

“Yes please, could you leave the tray? I prefer to pour it myself.” he lied.

She curtsied, nearly losing the tea kettle, but managing to rebalance and place it on the small table in front of him. He poured himself a cup and mixed in a bit of honey and nothing else, sipping it as he listened to servants all settle back in around the house. Melissa stopped by with a small plate of sandwiches for him. He ate two and, feeling fortified, decided to make his way back to the library to see how much more he could clear out before he slept.

…

Solomon was awoken by a terrible scream and the sounds of commotion near his room. He pushed himself from his bed and grabbed his walking stick, brandishing it like a weapon as he carefully opened his door. He saw no one outside of it, and so crept quietly down the hall toward the sound. He eventually reached the servant’s quarters where he saw all of the maids gathered and Barnabus holding a hammer loosely in his hand.

He stopped sneaking and walked toward them.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

The servants jumped as they heard him.

“Sir!” said Barnabus, bowing slightly, the girls all curtsying next to him.

“Don’t bother with that. Answer my question.”

“One of the maids, Felicity, was having a nightmare,” said Nelda.

He frowned. It sounded like the girl was being attacked, not having a simple nightmare.

“Is she alright?”

A few of the maids blinked, as if surprised by the question.

“She seems to have calmed down now sir,” answered Melissa.

He nodded, then remembered how tired Felicity had seemed. “Are these nightmares a common occurrence?” he asked.

The servants exchanged glances. He got the impression they didn’t want to get her in trouble. Still, that answered his question anyway.

He shook his head. “Go back to bed everyone. You may start your duties an hour later tomorrow. Please let those not here know as well.”

They bowed or curtsied and Solomon made his way back to his room, absently twirling his walking stick as he thought of the volk grimoire he had sitting in his desk.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

…

The next day Solomon made his way out onto the grounds of the manor. He’d done a thorough inspection of everything on the inside of it, but there was quite a bit more to see. He approached the stable first, finding Duncan sitting in front of it smoking a hand rolled cigarette. The stablemaster was old, with a bald head covered in a brown cap and massive gray sideburns. His eyes were hazel, and consistently hidden behind a discerning squint.

Solomon approached him.

“Eh?” He said, dropping some ash onto the dirt in front of him.

“How is the stable?”

“S’alrigh. Loose stones and old wood need replacin soon.”

“And how’re the horses?”

“Anxious. New place. New smells. They’ll settle.”