EL Official BK5 Chapter 11 - The Game and The Players. (Patreon)

Official Draft Chapter for Book 5: Markos is a fast learner, and his manipulative nature is starting to show through. ..

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The letter arrived with the first snow. Delivered by messenger bird and bound in red twine it read:

‘Dear Markos, 

We have conquered four territories and are moving west. As such, it has been decided that the European campaign will be extended as we continue to expand. Please take care of your mother in my absence. 

With my love,

Emmerich Bellerose.’ 

My father’s neat french sprawled across the tiny paper and my nose scrunched in disgust as I threw it away. I should have known it would come to this, I thought bitterly. Emmerich hadn’t told my mother when he was leaving, and she had behaved well enough in the beginning. But by now she had decided enough time had passed that he wouldn’t return and her behaviour deteriorated as a result. 

Under my father’s order she was expected to maintain the household. Cooking, cleaning, sewing and grocery shopping. If she did not, which was often the case, he would simply compel it. Now she no longer kept up any pretence. Largely ignoring my presence she began to leave the house. Disappearing beyond the walls of the castle without consequence for days at a time.

In some ways it was better. I could sleep through the night without her there, and it meant I didn’t have to find food for the both of us. But it would be a lie to say I didn’t miss her. I suppose I needed my mother just as any child would, and I knew it was my fault that she wouldn’t come home. Even if she wouldn’t speak to me, at least knowing she was home made me feel less alone. 

I kept our home tidy as best I could for when she would return, and ate bland meals alone. Hasan began to visit with almost irritating regularity. He had promised to get me a job within the castle, but each time he visited, he had new excuses as to why he had not.

“It’s difficult to find the correct vocation for you,” he mused as I poured him tea, “I want to make sure it’s worth your while.”

I didn’t understand, but I wasn’t going to question him directly, “...It’s okay,” I mumbled softly and he smiled.

“Such a polite boy. Tell me, is your mother home?”

“...She’s upstairs,” I lied with a small delay. The more time I spent with Hasan, the less I liked the way he watched me, and something in my gut told me to be cautious.

“Oh, perhaps she would like to join us then?”

My ears heated, “N-No, she doesn’t like tea so…”

“I see,” he commented before continuing, “Perhaps I should leave then. I would hate to intrude in her home.”

I could hardly say I agreed, so I didn’t answer as Hasan stood. 

He dusted off his clothes, getting ready to leave when he spoke again, “I’ll keep working on getting you into the castle. Until then, would you mind delivering a letter for me?”

“Delivering it to who?” I asked suspiciously.

“Not to whom, but to where,” he produced a small envelope from his coat, “After training, go to the eastern gardens. Tuck it under the third pillar under the balcony. Make sure it can’t be seen easily.”

“...But why?”

Hasan chuckled. Leaning over me, he pulled a lock of my hair forward and held it taut at length, “You wanted a job didn’t you? This is a test to see if you can follow instructions. Perhaps it will help you get a better task to complete.”

“Okay…” I agreed as I looked anywhere else but at him.

“Good,” he let go before continuing, “And Markos, don’t read the letter.”

He left the letter on the table and departed without another word. The envelope was unaddressed, but it held a slight weight when picked up. I couldn’t imagine what it contained, nor did I dare look. 

***

I delivered the letter as instructed, leaving it wedged most of the way under the third pillar. From then, Hasan would give me another letter to hide whenever he visited and I followed his instruction with precision believing it would somehow help me. It became something of a routine, all the while his excuses continued.

Perhaps I should have realised sooner his nature.

Regardless, time passed. I trained during the day and in the evenings I studied. It had taken an embarrassingly long time to realise that when the inner castle residence left to attend the banquet, the halls were rather empty. 

Only servants and guards roamed the corridors at that time and I soon became acquainted. Many maids were middle aged fae-women who had been born among the aristocrats, only with canine teeth that were a touch too long. They didn’t belong among the commoners, but the nobles cast them aside for their lack of fertility, and I learned quickly that these servants were a good resource. 

They were the unnoticed eyes and ears of the castle, privy to all secrets. I won them over with coy smiles and thoughtful pleasantries. They grew fond of my cheerful persona, so I kept it. Often I brought them freshly plucked flowers or carved, polished stones and occasionally offered my assistance with menial tasks.  

Of course my actions were empty, I cared nothing for the help, nor was I blind to the way they regarded me as if I was something they could steal away. I was old enough by then to understand that I meant nothing to them, but young enough that I was still ‘cute’ and allowed them to dote on me. 

It earned me not only their discretion in regards to my movements within the castle, but also a great many gifts. For those who helped the seamstresses with sewing I was their living doll, and they relished in bringing me new clothes to dress in. To those who worked in the kitchens I was a helpful child whom they rewarded with small meals.

As I grew into a teenager this situation evolved somewhat. No longer cute enough to be their ‘child’ I found that gentle flirting awarded me their continued favor. It delighted the women to have a young man smile in their direction and any playful remark set them off like fussy hens. It was an easy game to play.

Through listening to their gossip I came to better understand the greater game and the players. I was becoming sly and it made me more aware. I regarded others with new suspicion. Learned which words were used to manipulate others and paid more attention to subtleties. It seemed Hasan had a reputation ‘plucking gems’, as the maids called it.

The man sought power and was renowned for getting what he wanted. It made me wonder why it was taking him so long to fulfill his promise, given how easily it seemed he could. But I wasn’t ready to confront him yet. Instead, I continued delivering the letters for him, while brewing my own plans and soon people watching became my secondary hobby.

In training I began to pay more attention and the dots began to connect. Wilhelm Klein was Ælferic’s second cousin. Born into the same lineage out of wedlock, he was the last of his line with both his parents dying in unusual circumstances. As such, he was closely acquainted with Ælferic, and had some small claim to being the family’s heir. If Lazarus died with no male children. 

Oskar was Lord Isidore’s son. Their family was fresh from Europe and was given control of Dunkel, Leúchtend’s sister castle, but Oskar was studying healing under Dr. Ortwin. Matheo was Lord Joachim’s son, who was the head of the Harvesting Program. Likewise, Avila’s father was in charge of agriculture.

The boy who often sparred with Mathéo and avoided me, Krystian, was the Blacksmith’s son. While the last of our group was Rafał. His father was in an advisory position, making him and Wilhelm the people I wanted to get close to as having leverage in their areas would be the most useful. 

It was apparent to me by then, that if I wanted to better my situation, I was the one who was going to have to do it. Unfortunately, that would require a series of sideways steps. In order to be of interest to my targets, I had to first make myself useful…

Keeping my footsteps quiet I slinked through the corridors, and I slipped into the library unnoticed. The room was three stories tall. Railed balconies spanned the length of the perimeter while the center was open all the way to the ceiling. Stained glass windows allowed afternoon light in from above and cast a warm glow across the bookshelves. 

I chose a place on the lower floor and toward the back where I sat under a dust coated desk. Studying well into the night I used my magic as a light. Sometimes I fell asleep there, curled up on the cushioned seat. Rarely if ever did anyone venture this far into the library, but I didn’t want to be caught regardless. The books I studied were linguistics, law and anatomy.

Since the day I witnessed Baltzar healing himself I had become obsessed. That was a unique and rare skill with endless applications. As such, I was desperate to communicate with him, to ask him how he learned and all that he knew. So it was his language that I dedicated my time to.

Once every two years, at the end of the winter season, few things of interest happen. Combat and apprentice exams begin, and the opportunity to enter into a new apprenticeship opens. If I could get Baltzar’s help, then there was a chance I could earn an apprenticeship with Ortwin. Moreover, the exams were sure to be fun.

***

Months passed and as our exams drew nearer I began working my plans into place. I had learned well enough to talk to Baltzar, but I held back. Instead, I made his life more difficult. When he wasn’t looking I switched out his weaponry for compromised equipment, and chose to avoid him. The result was an ever decreasing practical score.

This was what I had hoped, I wanted him to be desperate. 

At the same time as avoiding Baltzar, I approached Àvila. On a day where her sewing class sat outdoors, I joined them. Sitting heavily into place beside the girl I scoffed, “That looks like it was stitched by a human child.” 

“What do you want, gutter rat,” she shot back, pulling her sewing over her lap away from me. We were away from the rest of the group, since she had chosen to distance herself as much as was possible from the rest of the class out of spite.

“There’s no need for name calling.” 

“You started it. Now what do you want?” 

“Who says I want anything? I’m simply learning how to stitch.”

Àvila scowled, “Why don’t I believe you?”

I shrugged, “You’re right, stitching is boring. I should get back to combat training, it’s too bad you can’t-” I stopped when she hit my arm.

“Go away! You asshole!” She moved to go, but I caught her wrist, pulling her back down when she stood.

I was already taller than she was, and when she landed in my lap I held her there, “I could teach you,” I whispered in her ear.

Her eyes widened slightly, simultaneously shocked to be on my lap, and stunned by the suggestion.

“Well? Didn’t you want to learn how to fight?” I continued with casual disregard as she turned red.

“Get off!” she struggled, and I allowed her to go, “Why would I want to learn from you.” 

“Because everyone knows I’m the best.”

“The most arrogant,” she corrected. 

Dusting herself off as she stood, she threw the dress she was making over me and stormed away. To all outward appearances it would have seemed as though she declined my proposition. But it wasn’t more than a few hours later, when the evening lamps began to light the streets that she found me. 

I was, at the time, running an errand for one of the maids and with an arm full of carrots when a hooded figure pulled me into an alleyway. The vegetables spilled and I did my best to keep the annoyance off my face. 

“Àvila,” I greeted her as I retrieved the produce from the ground.

“Did you mean it?” she demanded, pushing the hood of her cloak back.

“Mean what?”

“That you would train me?”

“Why? You interested after all~?” I taunted, tilting her chin up with one of the carrots so that she could glare in earnest.

“Did you mean it or not!?”

“That depends. If I meant it, it’ll cost you.”

She fidgeted, biting her lip as she decided, “I want to take the combat exams with the rest of the class, and I want to win… Can you teach me to do that?”

“To win? No, you’ll never be able to beat me. But I can teach enough so that you’ll pass the exam.”

Brief anger flashed in her eyes, but she swallowed it, “Fine. What do you want?” 

“I want a villa in the inner castle. A big one, and your father is head of the agriculture department, no?”

“...Yes…” she admitted, “But agriculture isn’t property-”

“Agriculture is the largest asset to the castle. Even bigger than the guard, and your family is the wealthiest, second only to the Klein’s. If you want me to illegally teach you, I want more than fair compensation for the risk.”

“...How much then?”

“Enough to buy that villa I want.”

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