167 Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Seven - A Knight Errant, Part II (1/2)
The expression on his father's face was interesting. Pride, of course, that his son had done such a thing. Unease, at what this might portend, because his father did not think he could do the same. Regret, that he had not paid more attention to this son of his, who had proven to be so capable. Expectant, about what might come next.
Certainly, Errant had proven himself more than worthy of deserving more attention in the future. Alas, that was not going to go well.
Hs father rose from behind his desk as Errant came in. ”Father,” Errant said crisply, standing to attention properly. No need to deviate from established protocols.
”Errant, my son.” Errant could not recall ever being addressed that way. Being claimed and acknowledged. Interesting experience.
”I've come with the skull of the Stormcrone Zouma. I would like to take possession of the reward that was offered for her death.” It was a sum worthy of the death of something like her, and he definitely needed it for proper Gearing out. That he was being somewhat crass by coming straight to the point didn't escape his father, who narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
”Sit.” Errant did so, after pulling out a cloth bag, and dumping the skull with the animated hair into it.
”Sir, I strongly, strongly, strongly recommend that you reduce that skull to ash as soon as possible. Zouma was working with at least three other Hags, who may take it upon themselves to regain her skull, either to plumb for knowledge or to aid in her resurrection or transformation into a vengeful spirit, a witchfire. If what you have seen is sufficient, I can reduce her to ash right now.”
His father regarded him for a long moment, then glanced at the twitching hairs still drifting up out of the bag. ”Dispose of her, then.”
Errant pulled out Grace, now in poniard form, and simply stuck the head through the skull, vivic flames igniting on it promptly. Without another word, he threw head and sack into the nearby fireplace, where unwhite flames began to mist over it.
”An extraordinary deed, my son. Did you have help?” his father asked probingly.
”No. Some luck, perhaps, but no help.”
”Difficult?”
”Proper planning, execution, and use of terrain, more than anything.”
”You were gone for some time, Errant, without telling anyone where you were going.”
”Operational security over matters like this is a must, father. I didn't need our enemies knowing I was gone, or where I was gone, and Zouma was doubtless paying attention to the family, too. The fewer who knew, the better, and I decided that the optimal number was exactly one.”
”Mmm.” His father sat back, staring at him, as if he were an entirely new being. ”An extraordinary feat, to accomplish by one's self. And with no help?”
”None whatsoever,” Errant repeated fearlessly. ”Check as you like, I was alone. There might be some minions on the mountain who saw me there by myself, but that might take a bit of effort.”
His father tapped his cheek, trying to see through him and failing. ”You did all this... for the reward?” he asked, darting a glance at the disintegrating head.
”My moderate allowance has been rather insufficient towards assembling a proper array of equipment. The sum will prove beneficial in forwarding my plans. As you have doubtless already written it off, it should not require any changes to existing cash flows for the household.”
”And... that is all you are asking for?” his father asked seriously.
”Well, a letter of commendation. I am going to be joining a Knightly Order soon. I understand that I am unsuitable to join the household's forces, but I am certain my skills will be appreciated elsewhere.”
His father's eyes narrowed. ”Do not be insolent, boy,” he stated calmly. ”The killing of the Stormcrone is a great feat, yes, but it does not give you that right.”
”Every single member of the household knights is trained in the Damnation Heart. This is a fact and an inviolate rule. I do not train the Damnation Heart and am incapable of doing so. Ergo, I am unsuitable to join the household's forces, as I simply do not intend to serve as a footman... or perhaps you think the son of a Duke should be made an eternal squire?” Errant went on, his eyes and voice completely unmoved by the warning.
”There are other capacities in which you might serve the family,” his father stated crisply. ”Indeed, you would excel in them!”
”If they require being subservient to my brothers, I'm afraid that they will quickly agree that I am unsuitable for such things. And if there is no road to sitting upon the seat of the family, then my path leads elsewhere,” he stated frankly, keeping his father's dark stare without effort. ”As the head of the family has always been a Chi-user or Caster, there is no road. My ambitions are taking me elsewhere.”
His father sat back, a brooding expression on his face. He had discovered that this son of his was a shining jewel... but no jewel could shine in the Gilderalz family, where Hell had its sway.
By the laws of the family, he could not even confer a knighthood onto his own son, even after the killing of Zouma. Telling his son to give up on such an ambition was foolish, he could see at a glance it would not work... and would sort of knight aspirant would stoop to being a dark hand and assassin of the family, especially when his rivalry with his Powered siblings was so apparent?
It simply wasn't going to happen, regardless of what he ordered. His son definitely had the gifts, and had proved it by slaying Zouma alone, but it seemed those gifts would not be put to use in service to the family.
Yes, an uncomfortable feeling.
”Where are you thinking of submitting your service to?” he asked calmly.
”There are six different Orders I would be pleased to serve with, I will simply visit them in order, and go with who accepts me. A general letter would be best,” Errant replied calmly.
His father regarded him for a moment longer, and then slid open a drawer to take out a sheet of the crisp, embroidered official paper of the Duchy, bearing the seal of the family. He plucked up the fountain pen waiting on his desk, and with cold, bold strokes, began to write.
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Errant put the sealed letter away, not having bothered to read it. It was there for show, more than anything. The places he wanted to go to, the seal of the Duke of Gulder was truthfully not valuable at all. It would be only there to show an amicable parting.
It was time to get his Warlock Scepter made and enhanced, and to dispose of his other earnings. He'd burned much of them at night, if it was precious materials or power comps, but there were still some interesting items the Hag had cached up in her cave which some end-users would be happy to pay him for, and he would be happy to reduce their wealth in exchange.
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The next two months went by with some monotony. He was not at the dinner table, and his family barely saw him at all. Thirty thousand gold was sixty days worth of Infusing, and he was quite determined to clear his wealth away and put it into his Gear. Thus, he basically spent most of the day Infusing, and the rest of the time working out or studying. Interactions with the family and its retainers were short and to the point... while he need not act against them, he was cutting his ties and removing himself from their lives.
He was also very curious about how to get to Sustained status. The simple level of not needing to eat or drink would be extremely useful, let alone the additional hours per day. Alas, Hazé did not know.