60 – The Duke

“You learned something concerning about the Caldimores?” Vivi asked, shifting in surprise. “What?”

“We’ll get there,” Rafael said. “What do you know of that house and its history?”

She thought for a moment, then slowly shook her head. “The name sounds the slightest bit familiar, but I might be imagining it.”

“Seeing how you’ve been gone for a century, that isn’t surprising. It was during that period they rose to prominence. The Caldimores were of mild relevance during the Cataclysm Campaigns, enough so you perhaps heard mention of them, but they weren’t important enough that their name would stick in your mind, occupied as you were with,” he paused, “world-ending threats, and other such events. The house patriarch, Marquess Dorian Caldimore, died in the final assault on the Ashen Hierophant’s domain, as so many others did. As did the Marquess’s brother, his wife, three of his four sons, and indeed most of the Caldimore line. Even for an assault against a Cataclysm Monarch, their house suffered grievous losses that day.”

Despite her suspicions and general disapproval of Duke Caldimore, she winced at Rafael’s words. “Three of his four sons. And the one who lived?”

“Indeed—a certain Damon Caldimore. Now Duke, elevated for his years of service both during and succeeding the Cataclysms. A man who dragged his crumbling but respected house from the brink of extinction into dukedom.”

She grimaced. It had been easier to automatically dislike Duke Caldimore when she hadn’t known he was a war veteran whose entire family, or near enough, had died in service of saving humanity. Then clawed his way back up not just to where his family had previously stood, but further still.

“He’s high level then, if he’s that old.”

She had assumed Duke Caldimore to be a man in his forties or fifties, perhaps, but that had been founded on nothing. It made more sense, in fact, that he was old, considering his importance.

“Middle orichalcum. Respectable, but not particularly high. Enough to slow that inevitable fate of humanity. He has a number of decades left, though he’s well beyond his golden years. Hm. Other background you should know: Duke Caldimore has scant few direct relatives. His eldest son died fighting an undead horde that spewed from a dormant Crypt of the Regent. His eldest daughter fell to a similar fate—a naga raid. His first wife passed from sickness before either of them. His second marriage was for political purposes; he and the Duchess have a professional, allegedly cold, relationship, and little else. His youngest daughter, and only living child, Isabella, he sees a few months out of the year. They are not close, according to my intelligence.”

Vivi closed her eyes. Having a bleak past—and this went beyond bleak—didn’t forgive a person’s actions, but still. It could explain plenty, nearly his entire family dying not just once, but twice.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“This is the man you are at odds with, no matter the yet-revealed reasons, or whether his actions are justified. It would be unwise not to have a cursory understanding of his history.” He leaned back in his chair, frowning slightly. “The following, however, is a warning. The Caldimores are important enough that I was keeping tabs on them as a matter of routine, but they were not under any particular scrutiny of mine. While their house had a number of questionable dealings and events of minor to moderate political drama, all houses do. Much less a ducal family with heavy mercantile ties. I have been looking into Duke Caldimore’s affairs more closely and have grown…uneasy at what I found.”

“Uneasy?”

“I despise presenting suspicions rather than evidence,” Rafael said, grimacing. “But I have had very little time to pry. Duke Caldimore’s behavior has changed over the past months. Large loans made without investments to justify them, erratic traveling patterns, and, though I can’t imagine what this implies…the Wardens’ vault has been frozen.”

“Frozen?”

“Apparently, adventurers have not been allowed inside or out for the past thirty-six hours. I genuinely have no idea what that could mean, but it is—strange. Very strange. And strange is always worrying.” His brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “I fear I have nothing concrete, as I said. But my greatest evidence, ironically, is you.”

“Me?”

“For better or worse, my lady, where you tread, the world trembles. And you have somehow thrown yourself into the midst of intrigue with a major ducal household via your apprentice—an apprentice you claimed rather suddenly, I might mention. I have long wondered, as we all have, whether Fate truly twists Her long fingers into that grand tapestry for the raucous amusement of Her fellow gods, but if She does, these coincidences have all the warning signs of a brewing catastrophe. Just earlier, Isabella Caldimore ‘found’ your apprentice in the library. What a lovely happenstance, that.”

“I was thinking that myself,” Vivi said.

“So yes. Something has my skin prickling, however little true evidence exists. Aberrant behaviors, and inadequate methods of guarding them by a normally careful man, speak, to me, of plans coming to fruition. Of less need to obscure his actions. And a plan by one of the most powerful men in the Kingdoms is something to fear—not that I will insist any such thing is truly happening, or that Duke Caldimore is a villain of any sort. There are no concrete indicators…but equally so, he is a capable man and may merely have hidden them carefully. I am not all-seeing and all-reaching, my lady. In any case, I will implore you one last time to treat this meeting with caution. Even if you may not come to an amiable solution with the Duke, do not escalate until I, or you, better understand what these omens mean.”

“Yes, yes. I know. I won’t curse the entire Caldimore bloodline; I wouldn’t have to begin with.”

In the worst of cases, she would take things into her own hands and break William out of prison. That would have fallout, but not on the level of assaulting a respected Duke.

“Very well. I won’t insist further. I do have a request, though.”

“What is it?”

“Might I oversee the meeting while masquerading as your attendant?”

Vivi paused. “If the Duke finds out you’re wearing an illusion, that won’t end well.”

“I think it worth the risk. I need to observe him. That way, even if this meeting ends poorly, I will have gathered information. So much can be gleaned from so little, if you have keen eyes.” He flicked his hand dismissively. “Besides, it’s not an illusion I will use.” He withdrew a purple potion and waggled it. “Transmogrification is much more reliably deceptive. I would know.”

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it’s taken without the author’s consent. Report it.

“I would still sense the lingering magic in your blood,” Vivi pointed out. Though maybe not passively…she might have to cast an analysis spell. That was a high-level potion, definitely made by Mae, and thus subtle even to her.

“Our opponent, though formidable and well-connected, is not the Sorceress,” Rafael said dryly. “There is a risk, but a small one. For that matter, you will want to conceal yourself as well. I doubt you had personal dealings with Duke Caldimore pre-Turning, but your face, while obscure relative to your name, is far from unknown. Much of your anonymity stems from the sheer unlikeliness of you being who you are. The Duke is intelligent enough to ignore that instinct, and accept the possibility that the Sorceress has returned—and is indeed standing in his office. Best to come prepared.”

Vivi wrinkled her nose. “Fair enough.”

“You have no objections to the plan?”

“No.” That Rafael would be with her alleviated some of her concerns. Her interactions with important people so far had either been trivial, or had been with friendly faces. That wouldn’t be the case for this upcoming talk. “Let’s go see the Duke,” she sighed, “and find out if we’re being paranoid.”

***

By size and ostensible wealth, the guildhall of the Wardens—and thus the guildhall of the most successful human guild in the world—put Vanguard’s to shame.

Striding through the large, swung open double doors, through which traffic streamed at a steady pace, Vivi was met with a staggeringly grand lobby.