Vertragus: A Vassal Tale

Part I

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"If a man who claims to see the future is a fool, how much more so, the man who believes he can control it? We think we steer the ship of fate, but all of us are guided by unseen stars."

-Thick as Thieves

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The leaf of parchment, heavy in her hand, may have begun to wrinkle and fray, but the script held fast and strong on its face.

Eda Thorne is hereby cordially invited to attend the summer's opening hunt, this year hosted on the estates of Familia Veracruz, Valenzia, Saragon, as guest of one honorable Ynés Veracruz, Magnate of Küstenleben. Guests will arrive on the summer solstice and are welcome to enjoy coursing dogs on game. Falconry will be permitted as the weather allows. Horses to be stabled courtesy of the estate.

Your attendance is anticipated and appreciated.

Ynés Veracruz, The Lady Schöltz

Familia Veracruz

Her eyes lingered on the blue and gold seal stamped at the bottom of the leaf. It was still a wonder to her how it even reached her, given Eda's glaring lack of postage address or permanent residence. But lo and behold, while laying low in a wine bar in lower Drest, the most unassuming Lyonnine boy addressed her by name and handed it right to her. She had heard plenty of rumors regarding the surprisingly interconnected dealings of Familia Veracruz, as they so often addressed themselves, but this was uncanny. But what was more uncanny was the phrasing of the letter's closing statement. It was as if she was intended to arrive there, whether by her own volition or otherwise. She imagined having rejected the invitation outright, only to be spirited away into the inky night, gagged and blindfolded, and shipped off to the south. She shuddered the odd notion away and thanked her lucky stars that that hypothetical reality had not come to pass.

There she stood, then, parchment in hand, before the richly stained chamber doors of Ynés Veracruz. The Lady Ynés Veracruz, who was supposed to be one of the keynote guests of this summer solstice hunt. The deafening quiet of the empty halls was only tempered by the occasional shifting of the family's personal guard, posted at the chamber door, arms folded with an air of boredom and a lack of concern. He cleaned underneath his fingernails with the sharp end of a cloak pin absentmindedly.

"Lady's known you'd arrived for the past twenty minutes or so," he said, finally speaking up after the air had lingered in silence between them just long enough. "I would be getting yourself in there before you're doing your rich men's business sweaty and on horseback." In truth, Eda wasn't sure she'd even intended on staying long enough for the festivities to begin in earnest. She'd scarcely ridden a horse a day in her life and she had no ambitions on that changing anytime soon. The wagon ride over from the city proper was enough of a slog, what with the dust, unrelenting sun, and roads that seemed to be constructed more so out of potholes and good intentions than cobblestone and mortar. She gave the guard a brief nod and, upon realizing she'd be getting no help from him, returned the parchment to the safety of her belt pouch and gave the door a knock and gentle push.

The chamber was modest, defying Eda's previous, much more grand expectations. The simple furnishings included only a four-post bed, an armoire, a dressing table, and a mirror. At the foot of the bed stood what could hardly be argued as a wooden bench. Last she'd seen anything that decrepit was the night she broke into an abbey to sleep for the night. Vows of piety and poverty seemed to necessitate the use of the most splinter-ridden planks available in Albionne. The bed was dressed for the summertime in sheer white linens embroidered with impossibly tiny red flowers. Opposite the door was a lightly dressed window overlooking a central courtyard Eda hadn't yet been able to explore, having been ushered upstairs as soon as her arrival to the estate was made known. Down there overdressed guests milled about, socializing and scrutinizing packs of slender-legged gazehounds and fesnyngs of polecats in cages and falcons of sizes and colors she'd never even seen before. The wind carried a conversation aloft through the open window and Eda caught mention of "Hare and jackals, maybe even a pard..." and she felt her breath catch in her chest for half a heartbeat. Whether that had been from the thrill of the thought or the fright she wasn't sure. Before she could figure it out, though, another voice broke the silence.