::Saint::

Vasper watched quietly as the Serapis nobles filed into his great banquet hall, each with their own private entourage of consorts, bodyguards and soldiers, and took their seats around a dozen long tables, waiting for the thane’s feast to begin.

Enemies – the nobles had long since sworn to undertake the thane’s overthrow and eventual execution for crimes they could not begin to really understand. The people of Verdistat had long whispered together of what they imagined the thane’s crimes to be – deaths (both incidental and deliberate), abductions, tortures. There were rumours of people – mostly those known for being particularly outspoken in their criticism of the thane – disappearing from their beds in the middle of the night and never being seen or heard from again. Some spoke of even darker things – treason, sorcery and communion with evil gods.

Vasper knew the truth was darker than any of them could have imagined.

From the high table, Vasper’s gaze moved to take in the great hall that would soon be full of rivals and conspirators. It was a visual tour that never failed to inspire feelings of security, pride and satisfaction – all for good reason.

Nothing about the hall was left to chance or coincidence. Every detail down to the tiniest fixture and decoration was arranged with exact precision and nothing in that room existed except by Vasper’s express purposes.

The room was absolutely perfect, which Vasper well knew, as the design was his own and had been executed with utter meticulousness by Prince Fedyk’s very own craftsmen. Their commissioning had cost him a rather large fortune, but had proven well worth the price; the work was flawless.

The room’s design itself was a work of dark genius, put together by a man who had spent many long years studying the subtle arts of persuasion, manipulation and coercion. The great hall had been the culmination of all Vasper’s art and skill and served its intended purpose ruthlessly and efficiently.

Enormous square stones lined the floor of the immense circular hall, arranged in powerful patterns that evoked strength, solidarity and trustworthiness in those the thane wished to impress or inspire. Large sculpted murals built into the towering granite walls colourfully depicted grandiose scenes of victory and conquest from the lives of the thane’s more legendary ascendants and served as a manifest reminder of the majesty and potency from which the thane was descended. The ceiling of the great hall was an intricate collaboration of sharply angled vaults and smooth, grand arches that elegantly crowned the room in jet black ebony and left the visitor with a sense of being part of something much larger and grander than themselves.

To the unprepared visitor of this room, the thane was a man who was noble and benevolent and larger than life. He was a man who could be depended on and trusted implicitly - a man who commanded respect and deserved fealty. Visitors to the mighty hall wanted desperately to please the thane and earn his favour, a fact which he had exploited ruthlessly in many negotiations.

When dealing with rivals and opponents, Vasper’s subtle rearrangement of the great round room would produce a darker, more sinister effect. The same great floor tiles became the massive stepping-stones of a cruel, autocratic behemoth. Cold granite walls brandished furious images of reckless and maniacal acts of violence, bloodshed and ruination attributed to the thane’s murderous lineage, and therefore also to him. The sharp vaults and wide arches of the dark stone ceiling seemed at first glance to be the perching places of a thousand malevolent shadows, ever scrutinizing those under their authority. At second glance, and every glance after, the ceiling seemed to descend ever lower and lower until finally it became, in the mind’s eye, the vaulted seal of a gruesome sarcophagus that crushed and oppressed all within its walls.

More than one of his opponents had found themselves hastily submitting to the thane’s will for no other reason than to get themselves outside of the walls of that great and terrible tomb. There were few who could resist Vasper’s intimidations, and such as there were had almost finished taking their seats in his hall.

For the feast, Vasper had gone a different direction altogether with the thane’s great room. Garish tapestries and tacky banners adorned the walls and ceiling, complimenting the rest of the bright and cheerful décor. The atmosphere in the hall spoke of festivity, ease and levity. It was his most insidious design and was carefully crafted to subtly, yet irresistibly put its guests off their guard while also distracting their attention from matters of serious thought or suspicion.

The arrangement was perfect and its effect – devastating; the nobles’ conspiracies were about to come into fruition, but the last laugh would be on the conspirators.




By now most of the nobles and their parties had finished entering the great hall and were taking their seats around the feast tables. Vasper had decided not to assign seating for the feast as he knew that there was much insight to be gained about the various house alliances by allowing the nobles to make their own choices on such things.

There were few surprises; by the time seating had finished many of Vasper’s suspicions about such relationships had been confirmed. He had always had a talent for ferreting out information about people that they might prefer remained hidden.

By the time the festival bell rang to officially commence the thane’s winter feast, the leaders of three of the great houses had not yet arrived. Within moments of the bell all three appeared, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they had not arrived on time. After several minutes spent casually sauntering through the hall, stopping at various tables to speak to friends and acquaintances, all three parties took their seats at the heads of the three most prominent tables.

It was a calculated gesture of defiance on the part of the latecomers, meant to demonstrate their disdain for the thane’s wishes and their refusal to be subject to his will. Vasper was not surprised in the least and had, in fact, been expecting something of the sort from these three houses in particular. They were the three most influential nobles of the thane’s court, and also the three who had first set out to orchestrate his overthrow.

Baron Madray had been the first to enter after the festival bell. He had recently inherited the title from his uncle, the long-standing Baron of House Bertos, who had died under mysterious circumstances. Madray was young, impetuous and rash. He preferred action over diplomacy and once committed to the cause of overthrowing the thane, had suggested an immediate and pre-emptive invasion of the thane’s estate.

Madray would have loved nothing more than a violent and bloody coup in which his compatriots might valiantly fall in battle, leaving him to assume the high seat of command after personally taking the thane’s head for a trophy. Vasper had looked into the young Baron’s heart and knew it was no coincidence that the old Baron had been poisoned soon after his four heirs had met their ends in various but equally suspicious ways. Madray had been the only male left in the line of succession.

The Baron was accompanied by a large entourage of personal friends that consisted mostly of little known lords and ladies from the kinds of minor houses that Madray himself had come from before inheriting the barony. They walked with an air of arrogant petulance that reminded Vasper of the sort of schoolyard troublemaker that bullied other children while hiding in the shadow of a larger and meaner sibling. Vasper found it ironically amusing that Madray still wore the same expression.

Behind Madray came the Lady Vizina, who carried the practiced detachment typical of one of Unver’s most aristocratic families, though she herself was little older than Madray. Vizina had been recently widowed when her significantly older husband, Viscount Gorbadon, had died of lung fever.

It was a curious death for such an affluent individual as Gorbadon; lung fever was rarely so severe and was easily treatable for anyone with enough money to buy the services of a surgeon or mage. There was no question that Gorbadon had had that kind of money.

Vasper knew from experience that a skillful thrust with a small blade of sufficient quality could create the illusion of lung fever. He was also aware that Vizina had secretly trained in the use of such weapons and rarely went anywhere without at least half a dozen tiny daggers hidden somewhere on her person.

Unbeknownst to old Gorbadon, Madray had often shared Vizina’s bed during her marriage. Now that both Madray’s uncle and Vizina’s husband were out of the way, the two had secretly planned to marry, and in doing so unite their two great houses into an even greater house that could rule over all the rest. Vasper had always found noble politics intriguing.

Vizina was accompanied mostly by bodyguards, as was her custom. She had always been somewhat paranoid about her personal safety, but especially now that her numerous male relations were all eager to become the next Viscount. Apart from bodyguards, Vizina brought with her several ladies-in-waiting who doted upon her with the utmost devotion and care (whether real or feigned; an aristocrat cared little so long as the servants did as they were told).

Last to enter the great hall was Count Bey, the oldest and most influential of the three. Apart from the thane himself, Bey was considered to be the most powerful noble in Serapis. Were the nobles’ plans to succeed, Bey would likely become the next thane. Vasper had never trusted him.

Bey had been the leader of his house for over 40 years. Indeed, on the surface he appeared to be a wise and venerable leader who exuded morality and noble intent. It was only when one dug deep into the soil of his past that Bey’s dark heart was revealed for what it was. Vasper excelled at such digging.

Vasper had long ago discovered that Bey’s sordid history was no freer of murder and deceit than Madray or Vizina. He had been the firstborn son and heir of Torbal, a cruel and manipulative Count who was much reviled by his contemporaries. At the age of sixteen Bey had decided that he would wait no longer for his inheritance and in one evil night single-handedly murdered his parents, siblings and several of his closer cousins, many of whom were still in swaddling clothes.

Bey had blamed the entire affair on the faithful manservant who had tended him since infancy. The servant had been publicly tortured to death in front of an audience as part of Bey’s inauguration ceremony and the Count had spent the last four decades burying his past beneath a lifetime of seemingly benevolent rule.

With a minimum of pomp, Bey took his seat, followed by his wife, several close advisors and various soldiers and guards. At the tail end of the group was a darkly robed and hooded individual who acted (unconvincingly) as though he were an indentured servant of some sort. Vasper wasn’t fooled, but he thought it best to play along for the time being.

From the high seat of the great hall, Vasper grinned inwardly.

All the players are set - The game is about to begin.

__________________
Please read and comment on my stories at my Elfwood Library

For my more journalistic writings, please read my blog - Everyday is Saint Day

For photographic proof of my existence, you may also peruse The Photos of Doom

Dephere

Hey you posted, I remember you thinking about it in the word games place...

Let me point out a few things...

I don't think you should put "really" here, it throws off the flow of the sentence, perhaps just omit it.

I liked this line, it really worked for me.

Your writing is very, very nice. It's presented very professionally and I think you have an excellent style.

One thing that I wanted to pointout was the amount of depth your wordl already seems to have, but be careful...you presented us with many names, and nuances of a world that we're still becoming accustomed to. I don't think you went overboard but it's something you want to be aware of as you write this story.

Your vocabulary is nicely developed, an attribute I love in authors. Your words also fit nicely into the overall flow of the story, they don't stick out as if you were trying to show off.

The closing line is sublime and it leaves me wanting more, but I'm hoping a little something more happens in the next piece. Your writing is smooth, but smoothness alone won't keep me involved in this story, it needs a hook, something for me to grab onto.

Mistakes are pretty much non-existant in this piece, of course I'm no expert. Awesome job, I like the tone of the story, and the depth of the world can already be seen.

__________________

Titania

First let me say that you obviously have an immense amount of talent. When reading I could forget I was not reading the beginning of, say, a George RR Martin book or something similar. You present a maze of political intrigue and treachery very easily, something which I am aware can be remarkably difficult to do.

I would not be myself if I did not find a few trivial things to point out:

This sentence struck me as odd. I think you could use the word commission rather than commissioning, if I'm understanding correctly. To me 'their commissioning' implies more the commission of things in the room. Regardless I suppose it's more a matter of opinion than anything.

The only complaint I can make here is that you use the word 'visitors' twice–possibly replace one with 'guest'?

Your description of the room is beautiful.

I think the comma should be removed, it seems to me to disrupt the flow of the sentence.

I thought the more usual form of the phrase was come to fruition

I believe it should be preferred action to diplomacy.

The last sentence seems to be unnecessary.

I think you should either take out the 'but' or add a 'so' between especially and now:
...safety, especially now that...
...safety, but especially so now that...

Again, overall you present a very intriguing society and the last line certainly makes me eager for more. Marvelous work.

__________________
Critique and ye shall be critiqued.

::Saint::

Hi Deph and Titania - thanks so much for taking the time to read and leave some great comments! The nitpicks and grammar catches are always appreciated, and at some point I will be undertaking a revision/re-write of the whole thing (probably once the book is finished), so I will be keeping all of these suggestions in mind. Thanks very much!

I'm happy that the depth of the story and the world (which is called Giliathor, FYI) is being appreciated. It is something that I have been crafting for many years, though only actually writing for the past 10 months or so. I really appreciate what you said, Titania, about forgetting that you weren't reading Martin or somesuch - that really means a lot as I am definately planning to pursue publishing when I am finished!

Dialogue is something that I am very careful with, and I take great pains to make it as believable and in-character as possible without it being over-the-top. I'm glad those things shone through here as well. As far as the different names and all of that - this opening act (what I would call the first 6 chapters, as will be posted in its entirety at some point) is really intended to introduce the concept of evil in the world of Giliathor and provide some insight into its workings. I really hate cardboard cut-out villains who have knew really reason for being villains, so I am really trying to provide some background into the idea that even the vilest and evilest of persons was not born that way - something grabbed ahold of them at some point and steered them down the dark path. Along with that, as I believe is true in the real world, even the worst of evil and villainous people (Bin Laden or Hitler, for instance) are really only pawns in a much great conflict going on around them. I hope you keep reading and enjoying, both of you - thanks again!

__________________
Please read and comment on my stories at my Elfwood Library

For my more journalistic writings, please read my blog - Everyday is Saint Day

For photographic proof of my existence, you may also peruse The Photos of Doom

silverwriter

As requested, no nitpicks. I will simply say I liked it and that it is something I would read, were I to find it in a bookstore.

__________________

::Saint::

Okay well I give my permission to be more detailed than that LOL

__________________
Please read and comment on my stories at my Elfwood Library

For my more journalistic writings, please read my blog - Everyday is Saint Day

For photographic proof of my existence, you may also peruse The Photos of Doom