Chapter 71 Sir Solomon

  “I am ashamed of myself for not acting sooner.” Sir Solomon told Lenna while the group headed back towards the Thronsen Estate in an unhurried walk. “I had my doubts about the Thronsen family as soon as, now Earl, Thor Thronsen retired. It was far worse than I had expected. A noble doing business under the table is, unfortunately, normal. Usually it is things like reselling contraband or acquiring it for personal use. Those types of things are often overlooked in exchange for local stability. I will be honest with you, I did not believe that it was as bad as you said it was. Once the first of my men fell, however, I made a decision to ensure that everyone involved is prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.” Sir Solomon had apparently taken a liking to Lenna. From what Isaac could gather from the Magistrate’s aides' glances back and forth, the man was not prone to explaining himself.

  While Sir Solomon was talking Lenna’s ear off, Isaac and Shamesh were working behind the scenes. Isaac’s shadows were dragging the Court Mage, whose wrists were anti-magic cuffed together even though she was still unconscious, behind the group while simultaneously keeping Shamesh out of sight. ‘Tell Alexander about our situation.’ Isaac instructed his retainer. ‘We might need him to get into the Court Mage’s tower.’

  ‘As you say.’ Shamesh replied with a bow and immediately got to work. The slight ripple of magic that was sent out upon the casting of a spell was almost completely muted by Isaac’s shadows. Isaac knew that sufficiently sensitive equipment or mana senses would still be able to pick up on spells cast by a shadow-cloaked Shamesh, but it was good enough for most people and in most situations.

  While Shamesh talked with Alexander, Isaac scanned the rest of the group to make sure that no one was up to anything they shouldn’t have been. The marquess was helping the marchioness along, both of them had their hands shackled with the cuffs that the aides had on them. The noble prisoners were kept between Lenna, Solomon, and the two aides. The one aide was in no health to fight, and neither was Sir Solomon, but everyone present knew that Lenna was more than enough to utterly crush everyone there, except for Isaac and Shamesh of course, simultaneously. It might’ve been a different story if the two soldiers, marquess, Sir Solomon, and the Court Mage were all at full fighting power, but as it stood, all of them together would hardly slow her down.

  ‘My Lord, Magus Alexander has informed me that he is on his way. He will, unfortunately, have to use the teleportation circle in Sapphirestone to get here as Port Vespera has changed too much since his last visit.’ Shamesh began. ‘Of course, he will also have to inform his colleagues in the capital as well as the Duke and Duchess Von Arbencroft.’

  ‘So he’ll be here, but not quickly.’ Isaac summarized.

  ‘It is as you say, my Lord.’ Shamesh replied.

  —

  The group finished their travels back to the indoor garden in the Thronsen manor after a short while. By the time they had arrived, and gotten the injured situated, it was a mere two hours before dawn. It wouldn’t have taken them so long if they hadn’t been forced to take regular breaks for those with mild and heavy blood loss. The soldier that the pair had left in the garden was still there and unconscious despite the noise. Sir Solomon had checked on him, and after a short moment, smirked with a chuckle as he realized the soldier would be fine but had simply succumbed to exhaustion.

  Isaac, Lenna, and Sir Solomon sat around the tea table while the soldiers and prisoners were forced to sit on the soft ground. The final chair had been offered to the soldiers but the unharmed one decided to stay with his comrade who had joined the other soldier in unconsciousness almost immediately. “I have a question.” Isaac said to the Magistrate. “You mentioned that the previous head of the Thronsen house was now an earl, after he retired, how does that work?”

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  “In Altia, when the head of a noble house retires, they are granted a title and a house in the capital. Their new role is entirely political and lacks any real power. They make deals, go to balls, trade favors, and advocate for their successor and their interests.” Sir Solomon explained. “The titles that a marquess and marchioness receive are Earl and Eartess.”

  “What about the rest of them?” Isaac wondered. He didn’t really care that much but they were stuck waiting for Alexander to arrive, or the Thronsen’s Court Mage to wake up. Apparently the Thronsens didn’t know how to turn off the security measures that had all been activated by the marquess’s sister. Shamesh had informed Alexander that someone would go fetch him once he arrived outside the estate because there was no telling what wards had yet to be activated.

  “The King and Queen become Archduke and Archduchess, the Duke and Duchess become Granduke and Granduchess, the Count and Countess become Viscount and Viscountess, and the Baron and Baroness become simply Lord and Lady.” Sir Solomon replied.

  “How does that work with the power hierarchy of nobles? I know that the four dukes and the counts are under the king, there are up to three marquess under each duke, and then up to three barons under each marquess. Where do the retirees fit into this?” Isaac continued his questioning.

  Sir Solomon smirked. “Where indeed.” He said with a far off look in his eyes as his mind drifted elsewhere. A short moment later he returned his gaze to Isaac. “Technically speaking, they should be under their successor but otherwise removed from the power hierarchy. A baron is, technically, not beholden to a granduke. The truth of it is often quite a bit more complicated.”

  “Favors, borrowed power, prestige, wealth, and occasionally personal power?” Isaac wondered.

  “Indeed.” Sir Solomon agreed. “My father, may he rest in Halya’s embrace, was a count turned viscount. Until the day he died, when that man spoke, even the king himself listened. He was a war hero who had made some decent political and business decisions. He managed to check every box you just mentioned, and it showed.”

  “But count’s cannot pass down their title.” Isaac said and nodded to himself. It made sense why the son of such a man would choose to walk the path of a Magistrate. He was in the perfect position to become a war hero and his fealty to the crown was so absolute that no king would ever hesitate to reward him, if for no other reason than to use him as a moral booster.

  “What is the political structure like where you are from?” Sir Solomon questioned Isaac in return.

  Isaac hummed in thought as he felt his head start to pound. He knew it was coming so he was ready for it and didn’t let it show. “I don’t remember.” Isaac told the magistrate while looking in his direction but not at him. “It was a long time ago.” ‘A long time ago’, in this case being very subjective.

  Sir Solomon didn’t press but simply let companionable silence settle across the well lit and pleasant garden around them. The trio stayed there, with an eye always on the marquess, marchioness, and Court Mage, for nearly half an hour before Shamesh was informed of Alexander’s arrival.

  “The Court Mage of Duke and Duchess Von Sasston has arrived.” Isaac informed Sir Solomon and Lenna. “We must all, save for the two unconscious soldiers, go greet him and take him to the entrance to her tower.” Isaac finished with a gesture towards the unconscious Court Mage.

  “Very well.” Sir Solomon replied and rose to his feet. He looked down at the marquess and marchioness. “Both of you, come along.”

  “Has she not had enough excitement for one day?” The marquess questioned the Magistrate indignantly.

  “And who, pray tell, is at fault for that?” Sir Solomon retorted with a scowl. “Get up.”

  The marquess swallowed hard under the unrelenting gaze of the old, wounded, but utterly unwavering Magistrate. “Yes, Solo-”

  Sir Solomon cut him off: “Sir, it is Sir Solomon to you, Flynn Thronsen.”

  The group, minus the two severely wounded soldiers, made their way out the way that Sir Solomon and his men had come. They had been led through nearly half of the manor and been forced to deal with nearly every kind of trap imaginable. Every step, every corridor, every hallway and every room took its pound of flesh to cross. It was soon very clear why Sir Solomon had been entirely out of mana and potions by the time Isaac and Lenna had caught up to him. Men were left charred, rotted, sliced, crushed, poisoned, impaled, and left with chunks missing. Yet somehow, through all of the traps, Sir Solomon had managed to survive while leading from the front. Most of the dead soldiers had been next to or directly behind him. As they passed used trap after used trap, Isaac and Lenna slowly started to look at Sir Solomon in a different light. He was not some old warrior that was hard to put down and had more conviction than he was years old. He was looking more and more like them, like what many would call; ‘a monster in mortal skin.’