Mageborn The Line of Illeniel by Michael Manning (interesting novels to read .txt) 📕

Arundel! It’s good to see you on such short notice.” I held out my arm to him again, but he made no move to take it. Glancing over I saw my mother gaping at my appearance, I worried she might have a stroke.

The nobleman spoke to Dorian first, ignoring my presence, “Sir Dorian, who is this man?! This is the second time he has accosted me.”

Dorian’s lips had formed a large ‘O’ as his mind struggled with the situation. Eventually he got his mouth working again, “Baron, may I introduce Mordecai Illeniel, the Count di’Cameron. Mordecai this is Sheldon Arundel, your closest neighbor.” Dorian looked as though each word was costing him a year of his life.

It was now the baron’s turn to be shocked; his mouth opened and closed several times before he finally spoke, “Lord Cameron, it seems you have made a fool of me.”

I couldn’t tell if he was upset or not, he still seemed to be in shock. “Nonsense,” I assured him, laughing. “ You did most of that yourself, I was just having a bit of fun since you seemed confused. Sit back down, have some wine.” I gestured to the chair as I took a seat myself.

My mother could hardly contain herself, “Mordecai why are you covered in mud?” She kept her tone calm but I was certain she was fairly agitated. She certainly hadn’t raised me to greet lords while looking like a pig in a wallow. Visions of switches rose unbidden to my mind. I suppose we never get past the ingrained fears of childhood.

“Sorry Mother, I was hurrying to catch up with Lord Arundel after our chaotic first meeting and I slipped in some mud near the stables.” Her expression told me all I needed to know about her opinion of my truthfulness. I gave her an extra-large smile to put her at ease and returned my attention to the baron. “I appreciate you coming so soon considering we haven’t had the opportunity to meet before.”

The good baron seemed to be recovering his composure, though his eyes kept straying to the mud in my hair. “Well yes, I thought to make a good impression since we have only recently become neighbors. Might I ask why you were dressed as a serf?”

I felt my hackles rising at the term. Until recently I might well have been described as such, at least by men with no better knowledge. “I keep no serfs here my lord; the citizens of Washbrook are all freeholders.”

“Freeholders then, it matters not to me what you call your peasants,” he sipped his wine casually. “I am given to wonder if you had not had this prank planned ahead for my arrival.”

I was warming up to the baron quickly as it was clear we would get along superbly. “No I am afraid my poor attempt at humor was entirely spontaneous. I was heading to the smithy to work on a project with my father.” I could see Dorian shaking his head in a silent ‘no’ out of the range of the baron’s peripheral vision.

“I had heard you were raised in unusual circumstances, this must be your adopted father you refer to?” he asked mildly.

“Yes,” I answered. The man’s insufferable attitude was irritating to say the least. “I hate to be abrupt, but I have some rather pressing news to relate.” I worried that the longer we talked the worse things would get so I decided to get directly to business.

“Please go ahead, I would rather not strain your hospitality further,” the baron seemed as anxious as I to have our conversation done quickly.

I gave him the briefest version of what I had learned concerning the unknown threat posed by the shiggreth and the more looming danger of invasion from Gododdin. Even brief as I was it took a quarter of an hour to relate the news and throughout it all the baron showed little sign of apprehension.

“You say you informed the king?” he asked finally.

“I did.”

“What was his response?”

“He will face the invader at the river Trent. He plans to call on our levies as soon as spring arrives,” I told him. “When I discussed this with him I told him I don’t plan to answer that call. Instead Lancaster and I will face them in the valley. We have a plan to...”

“You disobeyed the king?” he interrupted.

“After a short talk he saw the wisdom in letting me attempt to stop them here,” I kept my voice neutral to hide my increasing annoyance.

“You plan to face them by yourself... you’re either a madman or a fool,” the baron’s disdain was plain to hear.

“James of Lancaster and I will work together; we have a plan that may lead to success. If you will hear me out I believe you will find some hope in it.”

“I think not. Nor do I believe the duke would be part of your foolish schemes.” He stood as if to leave.

I was prepared to be labeled a fool if it would gain the baron’s aid but it looked unlikely to happen now. “Before you go,” I inquired, “What do you plan to do?”

“That should be plainly obvious to anyone but a madman covered in mud. I will take my men and join the king as soon as possible,” he replied. He began heading for the door.

“What of your people?” I shouted after him.

The baron stopped for a moment before answering, “I will rebuild when the war is done. As long as there is land people will come.”

Everyone in the room was staring at me. Thus far I had kept my calm, though perhaps I hadn’t gotten off on the right foot. Now it seemed kind words would have no effect. As he reached for the door handle I considered stopping him but I saw little hope of changing his mind.

“What a bastard!” I remarked as the door closed behind him.

“I don’t think your appearance helped any,” said Penny. “Though I am surprised you kept your cool.