Valkyrie's Shadow

Birthright: Act 4, Chapter 16

Birthright: Act 4, Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Ludmila sat up from her bed groggily, stretching her sore arms over her head. The pain affirmed that the events of the previous evening had not, in fact, been some sort of surreal dream. Smashing endless swarms of cockroaches with her shield was not what came to her mind when she thought about adventuring, but now it was the only thing she could think of. Letting her hands flop down loosely onto her blanket, she scanned her room.

Despite the fatigue from the previous day, it appeared she had still awoken earlier than usual. There was no light coming from behind the drapes and she could not hear the sounds of her household preparing for the morning. She looked around her bed for the documents she fell asleep reviewing: they had accumulated while she had been away for most of the evening. Failing to find them, she poked her head over the edge of the bed to see if they had fallen to the floor but only found her slippers, which were neatly arranged below.

It seemed that Aemilia had cleaned up Ludmila’s solar after she had fallen asleep. Her books and folders were arranged on a desk that had been brought in from another room in weeks previous, and her equipment had been arranged neatly near to the stand on which her only dress had been mounted. Her gaze hovered over the now-too-short forest-green dress purchased just over a year ago.

Every time she thought she would have a portion of her schedule free to head out and shop for additions to her wardrobe, it seemed that some urgent matter would find her and push the errand further along. It wasn’t limited to shopping, either. If it wasn’t paperwork, it was one appointment or another in the city. If it wasn’t something domestic, the Adventurer Guild would come calling. She supposed that she would need to give up for the time being and allow Aemilia the task of having new clothing made while she herself was away on one duty or another.

Too much time thinking about her schedule had roused her to full wakefulness, so Ludmila swung her legs out from under the bedcovers and headed over to the desk. Stretching lazily as she stood over it, she mentally reviewed what was to be done for the morning.

A message from the Cathedral had been delivered while she was away and, by the time she returned home, it was too late to respond. There were several additional requests for goods for her demesne, which needed to be added to the cargo sent out to Corelyn Village before the ship returned from upriver. Taking her seat to sort through what needed to go where, her hand brushed up against a small box that had not been there before.

Curious, she opened the container and found a small mirror on the inside of the lid. The interior was separated into several compartments. It was a jewelry box – but the sole article of ‘jewelry’ that lay within was a dull, grey tag: the Iron Plate bestowed on her by the Adventurer Guild after their team had returned and a short review delivered on their performance. Four of their number had advanced to the next rank while two – Penn and Themis – had been held back on account of the outcomes being so irregular that they had not been able to fully demonstrate their capabilities.

They had accepted the reasoning with no discernable disappointment, and were currently on standby to recover their mana for an exercise later in the evening. The next group of Copper ranks would be tested before lunch. Ludmila and Howe were requested to set up several simple traps in advance, so she needed to sort out her administrative duties before mid-morning.

Not twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

“My lady, are you awake?” Aemilia’s voice asked softly from the hall.

“Yes, come in,” Ludmila answered without looking up from her work.

The door opened and a lamp appeared, followed by her lady’s maid. At some point in the weeks previous, Aemilia had caught on to her mistress’ ability to see in the dark, so she always now came with her own lighting just in case she needed it. The existence of Talents was commonly known; their manifestations often being useless to the point that one may as well not have theirs at all. Having one of practical use was uncommon and considered a boon but, as a whole, they were merely considered a part of the countless unexplainable mysteries of the world. Talents were not questioned or examined overly much unless they were exploited for renown, or happened to become a topic of discussion concerning renowned individuals.

As a result, Aemilia was not aware of the full extent of Ludmila’s Talent – the maid’s understanding amounted to her mistress having some sort of Darkvision. Ludmila supposed that it didn’t really matter when it came down to domestic affairs, anyways. Aemilia drew open the drapes, and she set about her work as Ludmila continued with her own.

“How will you be dressed this morning, my lady?”

“I have to head out to do something for the Adventurer Guild soon, so just the regular equipment will do,” Ludmila said as she began to divide up her orders for the morning. “Actually, before that, was there anything new in the letter room?”

“I will take a look, my lady,” Aemilia replied. “Where would you like breakfast this morning?”

“In the dining room. Keep it light, though – I’ll be doing a lot of running around this morning, but I’ll be back for lunch so I can make up for it then.”

Ludmila stood and flipped through her papers again, adding the separated orders to her file folder. Between them, Terrence and Rodney could have them out within the hour, before most of the other manors sent out their own. Aemilia appeared at the door with a new set of messages, placing them on the desk before her.

“There’s a letter as well, my lady,” Aemilia said as she placed the new work onto the desk. “House Wagner, I think?”

“I guess we’re not the only ones working early,” Ludmila murmured as she broke open the wax seal and unfolded the letter. “Hmm…Lady Corelyn is in the city, and Wagner is hosting lunch.”

“Your response, my lady?”

“It’s early in the afternoon,” Ludmila said, “so I should be back well before then. Have Rodney relay my response on his way out.”

She scanned through the other messages. The first was a cargo manifest of the shipment that had departed the village at some point in the night. It was still entirely timber slated for construction purposes, and most of the proceeds went towards sending needed goods back upriver. Demand had waned for a brief period when the patches of forest that had been allowed to reach E-Rantel’s walls had been cleared away, but the new policies for improving the capital and the ongoing development of the new city quarter devoured the brief abundance. If she left her inventories to the Merchant Guild to auction off, there would be a buyer for everything before the shipment made it halfway to harbour.

The second was a message from Moren Boer: who had in turn received a message from a past associate, asking if they could migrate to Warden’s Vale. A dubious expression fell over Ludmila’s face as she recalled the man’s tale from his younger days. She would need to ask about it in person the next time she had an opportunity.

The third message was a compilation of various questions and requests from her tenants in the village and the newly populated hamlet. Nonna sent these once every few days, but they usually came in at night since she did not consider them a priority and composed them in her idle time. There were worries over housing with the new tenants trickling in; others requested approval for apprenticeships under the handful of tradesmen that now populated the village. More still were smaller things that she was already well familiar with after years of managing the barony under her father: minor disputes, questions about taxes with the upcoming summer harvest and petitions for various conveniences that were not currently available.

They were things she could think on before replying to; nothing seemed overly urgent. It occurred to her that new administrative staff would be necessary soon in Warden’s Vale, or she would be buried trying to keep up with the petty business of her territory. Most of the questions and petitions posed by her tenants were matters that she could deal with personally in the village, but with other settlements on their way she needed to find some way to delegate responsibility. She caught herself as her mind drifted off to how she might organize her administration and rose to her feet to get dressed – there was no time for idle planning.

Upon leaving her solar, Ludmila almost bumped into a pair of Skeletons bringing bundles of laundry down from the upper rooms. Whoever was directing them was nowhere to be seen. She poked her head out of the doorway to watch them before entering the hallway.

“Have you figured out a way to identify which Undead are being directed by different people?” Ludmila asked as she followed them down the stairs.

“Not directly, no.” Aemilia answered, “Wiluvien is responsible for laundry, so those should be hers. Lluluvien does most of the cleaning downstairs, so the ones working down there are usually hers. Terah’s help is usually in the kitchen or cleaning around the house, and the footmen are usually taking care of things outside. They’re quite helpful with moving things around inside, as well.”

“So no one accidentally orders away someone else’s assistants?”

“That’s…possible, I suppose?” Aemilia tilted her head curiously at the thought, “I haven’t ever seen it happen though. If they’re not doing the tasks you’ve set them to doing, surely you’d recognize that they aren’t the ones you’ve been working with.”

“When things get hectic and there are a lot of them around,” Ludmila said as they entered the dining room, “I worry that something like that could happen. If there are dozens of Skeleton labourers working on a field and four for every farmer, it might be easy to commit that sort of error since they’re all doing similar things. We should find out sooner rather than have it happen accidentally. While I’m out, have the Linum sisters try to usurp control of each others’ assistants, then try it between the different staff members.”

“Yes, my lady.”

The drapes of the dining room had been drawn open but, as the sun had not risen above the far wall, the table was cloaked in gloom. A single set of utensils had been laid out on a fresh linen tablecloth for her use. She seated herself at the head of the table and, as breakfast was served by her housekeeper, Ludmila separated the two folders that she had set on the side. Aemilia moved about the chamber, lighting the fixtures.

“Mrs. Ro’eh,” she said, “these are errands for the footmen. I’ve marked out their files for use from this point onwards.”

“The Human footmen, I take it?” Terah said.

“That’s right,” Ludmila smirked. “Also, was there anything around the manor that needs to be addressed?”

The Housekeeper was silent for several moments.

“Well, my lady, the fireplace in the hall is still demolished – that’s something we’ve been waiting on for a while, though. I think you mentioned renovating the hall as well at some point, so it’s probably something that will have to wait until then. There have been no concerns expressed by the manor staff in general, but I believe there are a couple of things that should be brought to your attention.”

“Mm?” Ludmila looked up from her meal.

“It’s a matter that needs to be discussed at length, I think,” Terah seemed wary as she spoke, “when you have the time, of course. It isn’t something that will go away any time soon, but seeing how busy it is at the moment I do not wish to interfere with your work.”

“I see,” Ludmila furrowed her brow, “How about around dinner today, then? I should have a little time to spare.”

“That’s…very well, my lady. Let’s do that.”

The mounting hesitation in her housekeeper’s voice caused the seed of worry to sprout in Ludmila’s thoughts.

“It’s not something bad, is it?” Ludmila asked.

“No, my lady,” Terah replied. “I would not consider it a good thing, nor a bad thing in itself.”

If Terah’s goal was to keep her from being distracted from her work, she was doing a poor job of it. Ludmila sighed as she attempted to push any thoughts about the mysterious upcoming conversation with her housekeeper.