Draconis' Bane (19 page)

Within days they had
the keep running efficiently, which made the other changes Tristan
had implemented run flawlessly. His new chief aide, a no non-sense
sort of fellow named Grant, was a loud and stubborn man that easily
put the more fracas merchants in their place when they came
complaining about taxes being re-imposed on them.

Any further
complaints ceased when an engineering crew entered the city after a
few days and began clearing the sewers and expanding the system to
accommodate the increase in population. Already the city smelt
better in the poorer districts and those citizens treated Tristan
warmly when he went on his daily walks around the city.

Today as Tristan
walked past the largest marketplace he noticed a group of brightly
dressed strangers putting up signs. As one such man finished
hanging his sign from a nearby lamp post Tristan approached it and
read;

The All Rivers Bards
Guild is proud to present “Only the Finest” a theater presentation
for the whole family! Playing all week in the theater district of
Durshire, seating begins at seven bells. Admission is only 2
coppers.

“Your Highness?” A
familiar voice called to him, followed by an echo of giggles.

Tristan sighed; the
vapid merchants’ daughter had taken every opportunity to flirt with
the young monarch since the morning he visited her fathers’ jewelry
shop, looking for gifts to send back to his mother and sister. He
carefully hid his annoyance because her father was one of the few
merchants who supported his reinstatement of taxes and other
changes. The young Prince turned to find that Stephanie had brought
along two of her friends today, each of them was in a dress of the
latest fashion.

The three girls
curtsied politely to Tristan. Stephanie quickly stepped forward and
wrapped her arm around his. As always she was flirtatious and
completely infatuated with herself and the hottest gossip seemed to
pour out of her like a waterfall.

The young Duke barely
paid attention, merely grunting positively every few moments as she
chatted on without end. Tristan noticed out of the corner of his
eye that Robertson was shadowing him. He narrowed his eyes towards
the Knight-Captain as he slowly steered the young ladies over
towards a bakery.

“Of course…” He
answered out of habit.

“Wonderful! I’ll see
you tonight at seven bells then!” She squealed before releasing his
arm and walking away with her giggling friends.

“Wait…what?” Tristan
asked too late.

“You should be more
careful what you agree to Your Grace.” The Knight-Captain chuckled,
walking out of the nearest produce shop.

“What exactly are you
doing Lance?” Tristan demanded.

“Doing my duty, you
pup.” Robertson replied in a whisper. “I’m sure you’d like to think
you’re indestructible or some other young foolish non-sense, but
I’ve had escorts following you all week.”

Tristan hid his
surprise, though inwardly he chastised himself. He hadn’t noticed
anyone following him. Of course he was wrapped up in exploring this
new world of his, so he rarely paid attention to what was going on
around him when he felt safe.

“Now, what’s this
news I hear of a date my Lord?” He asked, biting into his
pastry.

“Nothing, I simply
didn’t hear the girl.” He replied, blushing.

“Well, as second son
you’re free to marry whoever you wish….” Robertson replied
sarcastically. “But I’d recommend someone with a little more
intelligence and a lot less cleavage.”

Tristan hadn’t even
been paying attention to how low cut her fashionable dress had
been. Recalling the image in his mind he realized that he had been
so distracted by his curiosity he hadn’t been paying proper
attention to anything around him. Robertson was right; his
fascination with his new world was making him reckless.

“Point made
Robertson; I’ll try and be more attentive.” He replied
laughing.

The Knight-Captain
regarded him while slowly chewing his sweet roll, “You’ll do then
lad. You’ll do.” Then he chuckled and popped the last bit in his
mouth. “Now, let’s head back to the keep before you agree to
marriage, shall we?”

Tristan scowled as
Robertson tossed his arm around him and laughed as they walked back
up the road to the keep. Tristan’s thoughts drifted to his pending
date with the vapid girl. It dawned on him that he’d never been on
a date before, at least as much as he could remember at any rate.
His darkening mood was lightened as he entered the keep walls to
hear Sergeant Frose and Peter arguing about the care of the
soldiers’ horse. Tristan and Robertson laughed as they headed
deeper into the keep.

~

A knock came at the
door and Tristan turned around in his chair. He had been staring
out of his window lost in thought. It seemed like so very long ago
he’d been eight years old, a downtrodden little wretch. Here he
sat, the Duke of Durshire, answerable to no one within a hundred
miles. His musing had been interrupted by the knock though.

“Enter.” He
called.

He rose, already
fully dressed for his
date
with Stephanie, as Rhonda entered
the room. She looked him up and down, her expression darkening as
she chastised him.

“You can’t go out
dressed like that!” She shouted, as though scandalized.

Tristan still had on
his black leather trousers, a simple green short-sleeved shirt and
he’d pulled his hair back and tied it in a tail. Rhonda headed
towards his wardrobe, evidently knowing exactly what she was
looking for as she moved items out of the way on her quest. She
grabbed a red shirt that buttoned half-way down the front. The
shirt had a v-shaped neckline, but was flattened a few inches above
where the point ought to have been. It hit Tristan in the face as
she threw it to him.

Chuckling he began to
change shirts as a pair of stylish trousers and a matching tunic
hit his exposed chest. Next she pulled out a pair of fashionable
boots and dropped them in front of the young Duke as she made a
dismissive noise and headed to the door.

“I’ll be back in five
minutes, be ready.” She commanded.

Tristan laughed,
she’d never been afraid to treat him as though he was her own
child. He enjoyed the by-play more often than not and Peter’s
attitude was much the same with him. As he changed into the soft
tan leather trousers he thought back on all of the timid servants
he’d met to date and was thankful for the help he had.

An impatient knock
was followed by Rhonda’s head, as the matron peered into the room.
Tristan was just putting on the matching tunic. The boots were very
comfortable made out of supple leather that would have been useless
for riding, but was more than adequate for daily wear. She motioned
for Tristan to stand in front of the full-length mirror in the
corner of his room, which of course, he’d never used before
now.

She pulled the tie
out of his hair, allowing his long hair hang loosely. Tristan was
forced to admit that the woman definitely had a knack for
fashionable dress. He fidgeted slightly, not entirely being
comfortable in the clothing, not due to physical reasons, but more
having to do with the need for the pomp. As always, Tristan loathed
being the center of attention, and it was a foregone conclusion
that he was bound to be tonight.

After Rhonda fussed
endlessly over his clothes, she deemed him ready and dismissed him
from the room where she began to tidy up, muttering half-heartedly
under her breath. Tristan walked through the long hallways of the
keep to the main entrance where Knight-Captain Robertson stood,
pulling at the collar of his dress uniform.

“You’d best at least
pay attention to the girl my Lord; this damned dress uniform is
strangling me.” He commented.

“Maybe third helpings
of Rhonda’s cooking should be avoided then.” The Prince shot back,
smiling.

Robertson shot him a
dark look as they made their way to the waiting carriage. The cart
was pulled by two draft horses down Main Street. It made its way
along the street as the citizens of Durshire headed home from their
last minute errands. The sun settled below the rooftops as the
driver turned down a rather wide side-street and came to a stop in
front of an impressive looking house.

“Well.” Robertson
grunted. “Off with you lad.” He elbowed the Prince in the ribs.

Tristan sighed as he
slipped out of the open carriage and walked up to the front door.
He had just raised his hand to knock when the door was pulled open
by a finely dressed servant who bade him enter into an
extravagantly appointed waiting room.

“The Lady will be
down momentarily.” He commented before turning on his heel and
marching off into one of the larger rooms.

The Duke stood there,
not knowing exactly what the proper procedure was. He was saved
further musings as Stephanie appeared at the top of the large
staircase. She smiled warmly as she carefully made her way down the
shallow steps. Her dress, Tristan noticed, was cut absurdly low, as
her dress this afternoon had been. Silently he hoped that his
sister didn’t dress this way for her suitors.

“Duke Vallious. How
wonderful to see you.” She said. Her voice was pleasant, though he
couldn’t bring himself to understand fully why.

The Prince offered
his arm, as he’d been instructed, and escorted her out to the
waiting carriage. Her smile faltered slightly when she saw the
Knight-Captain sitting next to the driver, where he had apparently
moved when they had stopped. Tristan held out his hand for her to
grasp as she mounted the steps into the carriage.

The trip to the
theater district was quiet; Tristan was still distracted by the
simple quality and beauty that was his town. He still had a
difficult time accepting the reality of that he was in charge of a
town and its surrounding countryside. He was thankful for the
feeling though. It instilled in him a sense of responsibility that
he make Durshire into a place those in Vallius would love to live.
A small cough brought him out of his reverie.

Tristan exited the
carriage and escorted the young lady into the largest and most
decorated amphitheater. The porter taking tickets and coin at the
door recognized Tristan and motioned for an usher to come and take
the pair down to the front row. The pair of them made themselves
comfortable as the guitarist and pianist played a light happy tune
off to the left of the stage.

Even the most softly
played noted reverberated around the theater. Tristan assumed it
was due to the construction of the building but made a mental note
to ask one of his staff about it later. A heavy velvet curtain
obscured most of the stage from view, but at this distance Tristan
could hear workers behind it getting the last bits of the set
together in anticipation for the show.

The theater slowly
filled with the rich and influential sitting around them, the more
modest seats a little further back and the cheapest seats rising on
the wall behind them. The music came to an abrupt halt, and then
started again as the audience applauded politely. A lone man
entered from the right, walking slowly across the stage and looking
out into the crowd.

“Ladies and
Gentlemen.” He began, his voice, just as the music, echoed
throughout the hall. “Welcome! Welcome to the
All Rivers Bards
Guild’s
presentation of
Only the Finest
!” More polite
applause responded to his announcement, but Tristan was transfixed
on what he saw dangling around the man’s neck.

A thick silver chain
was dangling between the folds of his open shirt, he caught sight
briefly of something black attached the end of the chain. After a
few more moments the man shifted forward again and this time
Tristan was able to get a good long look at it. A black roaring
dragon, attached to a silver chain. One of the few memories that
surfaced after Tristan’s attack had been the appearance of his
assailant, who wore an identical pendant.

The intermission came
for the play and the actors whose characters had been killed in the
first half came out to the courtyard of the theater to visit with
the patrons. Despite Stephanie’s desire to speak with one of the
actresses whose outfit she adored, Tristan directed their movements
towards the actor with the dragon pendant. They approached to find
he was surrounded by fawning women, who parted the way as the Duke
come towards them.

Affecting a
theatrical bow the man spoke to the Duke.

“Your Grace, what an
honor.” He intoned in a silky voice that made the women around him
sigh.

Tristan’s temper,
still so close to the surface, threatened to rise up and overwhelm
him again. He controlled his breathing, fighting off his irritation
as he returned the bow with a nod of his head and motioned off to
the side of the courtyard. The man followed the young Prince,
smiling widely.

“Your performance was
quite good.” Tristan began.

“Thank you my Lord.”
He replied a little more stiffly than he had in front of his
audience.

“I don’t think I’ve
ever been so drawn into a character.”

“Your Grace is far
too kind. It’s a role that suits my character well.” The actor
admitted.

“Indeed?” Tristan
prodded.

All three of the
characters the actor had played had brief appearances, been part of
a conspiracy and had died violently. Tristan was amused that this
actor felt that connected to these characters, however if the young
Prince was correct about this young man’s alliances it made much
more sense.

“I find it infinitely
more enjoyable to play characters that provide transitions in the
plot lines.” He explained.

“I often find that
art imitates life…” Tristan commented.