The Warden

Chapter 5

Contrasting starkly, Lady Eadlyn Ealhhere, lithe, slender, devastatingly beautiful, stood next to the seated obese wight. Only her keen, penetrating mind outstripped her looks and though not a former master or mistress of Works, she had had no small command of her lifelight when she had possessed it. Her combination of abilities had allowed her to twist men and the world about her at will.

And lastly, leaning against one of the six pillars that held up the seamless stone roof, was Sir Hahmunde Bux by appearance and stereotype deceptive as well, to his long past world naught but brawn—ample muscles, square lean jaw contributing to the perception—but most at that time had only made that mistake once. A combination of verbal and physical beatings left none in doubt that he possessed varied adroitness.

Of course, that left her, Mistress Charlan Leofric. Formerly a Worker of no small ability, but not to the level of Mistress Umbla. A fiery beauty, rich auburn hair, a porcelain complexion, startingly green eyes, but not the arresting sight that Lady Ealhhere was. Not the schemer at Lord Markham's level, but not without skill. Not a champion of Imposition, but still an adept student of the same.

Not one singular ability stood out above the others of the group. Well, maybe besides her son. He was generally incompetent. No, she had not one singular talent, like many of the others.

She had vision and the will to see it manifest. A vision of the world. Her world. A world ruled by the night.

"But we have to consider for a moment," said Lord Markham, his voice low so as to ease back into a discussion. "Our operatives are still in place. Doors, barriers of any kind really, that they put up will not stop them. The mages... do we have to call them that ridiculous name? We all know the truth here."

He did not wait for a response.

"Workers though powerful are too few in number to pose any real threat to us. They've seen to that themselves. And, if the reports are correct, the two of our numbers that were killed were renegades in need of punishing. Their timely deaths just makes our task that much easier. I stand by our course and plan. They just need time to come to full fruition."

"Lord Markham," said Mistress Charlan, stepping into a position to complete the circle the others had begun to form. The object of her attention stood directly in front of her. "What have the lessons of ancient history taught us if anything about waiting?" She clasped her hands before her as though addressing a student. "When the Great Wolves first appeared in Haimlant, seemingly from nowhere, the then scattered human clans did very little. The wolves seemed content to remain to themselves with no interest to hunt humans or even disturb their livestock. Why disturb a peaceful arrangement, I'm sure they thought. Does anyone remember what happened next?"

She looked at each wight in turn.

None appeared amused.

"Unbeknownst to the clans, the Great Wolves were capable of lesser Works and slowly began to change a few select species of animals—predators mostly, a herd or two of horses—" – she waved a hand to refocus herself – "useless facts. The point is they claimed only to be changing a very few choice animals, giving them the power to reason, to speak, even Work, so they could have a community of sorts. It was quite obvious they were building an army. If the human clans had realized that same truth sooner, they would have taken action more quickly and not been stuck in a stalemate for one hundred fifty years before forming the kingdom and having a reasonably sized force with which to resist the Animal Kingdom."

"Thank you for that fascinating history lesson," said Mistress Vertisk, her perpetually sour expression souring her words. "Is there a point to it?"