Hal - The Duellist #1

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Autumn

Rain hammered on the windows of Léac's office. The autumn was a miserable time in the city, as the dust of its streets changed to sludge. Wind plucked at the shutters, slamming them against the stone work. The revelry of the summer had been replaced by a stoicism in the face of the cold, chill gusts which blew in from the North: harbingers of the winter with its snowfalls which could sometimes cut the starving populace off from the surrounding countryside. But that didn't worry Léac. His new deal with Nérac ensured him full control over wheat and cereals passing into Colvé. And if food were scarce, he would be certain to raise prices.

He had heard nothing from his daughter since he had used her as security for the contract. Not that she was his concern anymore. Nérac could throw her in his dungeons for all he cared now. Providing, of course, no one informed the northern lord of his new wife's little tryst with Cara Thæc's daughter. But who was there to know of such disloyalty, up there amongst those barbarians?

So it was with a degree of alarm that he now witnessed the arrival of Cara's carriage in his own courtyard and the speed with which she hurried in the direction of his office.

"Lady Cara Thæc," the boy announced.

"I know, fool," he muttered as she burst into the room.

"In what way can I help you, Madam?" A note of unease crept, unbidden, into his voice.

Cara eyed him coldly for a moment and then began. "First, Sir, I would like to know why I received no thanks for my role in saving your daughter from her own foolishness."

Léac smiled to himself. The greed of the woman. No doubt the tales of her financial insecurity were true if she were so desperate as to think of blackmailing him.

"I don't believe, madam, there was any talk of my recompensing you for having merely performed the duty of any self-respecting courtier."

Her long, arrogant face paled with anger. "If that is the case and you really had any concern for your daughter's reputation, could you please explain to me why the duellist is still alive?"

Léac's smile became hard, fixed, and finally resolved itself into a frown. "I believe my men taught her a lesson she will not forget in a hurry. Bodies can prove awkward for business, Lady Cara. Particularly bodies of well-known duellists. If you want the girl dead, you must kill her yourself."

"Clearly, Sir, you know nothing of the woman's rapacity. As long as she is alive, there is every possibility that she will attempt to recover your daughter. I have had the misfortune of knowing her all her wretched life, and I can assure you that such is the truth."

"Well, I suppose a mother knows her child better than anyone else can."

Offended, Cara turned on her heel. "I took you for a serious man, Sir. I have only had your interests at stake. I shall be forced, as you suggested, to take matters into my own hands."

"Wait!" Léac barked, more desperately than he had intended. "I did not mean to be flippant. Please, take a seat. Share with me, if you would, a glass of wine."

She turned once again and gazed at him coolly, but to his relief she sat down.

"From whence, Lady Cara, do you have such information – about the duellist's condition, I mean?"

"My sources are perfectly reliable, Master Léac, as I am certain you are aware by now. What I would like to know is what you intend to do about this? It was my understanding that you would not tolerate the slur on your family's honour."

"And nor will I," he murmured, half to himself. "Do you know of Halanya's whereabouts?"

"She is being cared for in the home of her friend ─ the Senator, Marc Remigius."