When guesting at another's manor one must always be on their best behavior. At least until they give you permission to be bad.
Lady Arbessa in her Letters
After waiting in the carriage for a few minutes, the driver returned with Viscount Byar close behind him. Solomon noted that in spite of stabbing at least one man in the heart, he didn’t seem to have a drop of blood on him.
“Solomon! I’m glad to see that you’re okay.”
“You as well,” he replied. “What happened?”
“Just some ruffians. They were shaking us down, but some of the owner’s men arrived and managed to take care of it.”
“Is everyone okay?”
“There were some beatings, but none of the gamblers were hurt.” He smiled. “Priscilla was asking after you. Where did you run off to?”
Solomon recalled the green eyed woman who he’d been sitting with.
“I noticed a window when I was playing. When the gas filled the room I thought opening it might help. When I heard fighting I decided to go ahead and jump out of it. Got lost until I stumbled onto your driver here.”
“Well I’m glad you’re not hurt.” He climbed into the carriage next to him. “Theo, take us back to the manor please. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
The driver nodded, climbing up and getting the horse moving.
James reached into his jacket and Solomon jerked just a little until he pulled out a small leather pouch. “You alright?” he asked.
“Just a bit jumpy,” Solomon replied, glad he wasn’t looking at the blade of a knife.
“These are the winnings you had from tonight. I managed to hold onto them.” He handed them over and Solomon tucked it into his jacket without checking the weight or number of coins.
“I hadn’t expected you to be such a shark.”
“Neither had I. I used to play with my valet back at the Morrow estate. I guess he was more skilled a teacher than I’d realized. Most of it came down to luck though.”
“Well, luck is one of the best traits one can have,” replied James.
“How did you do? I saw you work across quite a few of the tables yourself.”
“Mostly down I’m afraid,” he replied with a cryptic smile. “Nothing that won't even out in the end though.”
He offered Solomon a cigarette, which he took, and they smoked quietly the rest of the way back. He wasn’t much of a smoker, but the heavily spiced roll he’d been given was pleasantly aromatic. He finished it, flicking it into the ashtray that the driver had somehow produced from within his coat. After that they walked inside.
“I’m sure that you want to get some sleep, but I just want to say that, before everything went to hell, I was having a good time,” said James as they walked inside.
“I was too. Hopefully we can manage to have some fun at your ball tomorrow as well.”
“That’ll be a bit more difficult. Though there will certainly be people trying to rob the two of us, in this case they’ll be legitimate businessmen. Much less fun.”
Solomon laughed and they separated. He followed one of the servants up to a suite of guest quarters that included a well appointed bath. He found Melissa asleep on a chair in his room. The servant that was leading him went to wake her, but Solomon held a finger to his lips and shook his head. The servant nodded and left.
Solomon moved over to his bed and removed his jacket, laying it down carefully. He then moved to wake up Melissa himself. She looked very young when sleeping. He knew that she was perhaps four years younger than he was, but she usually carried herself so well that he didn’t see her as such.
He tapped her on the shoulder and she began to stir. She blinked a few times before noticing that he was there and pushing herself to her feet.
“I’m so sorry lord. I must’ve fallen asleep waiting for you.”
“It’s fine. I was out quite a bit later than I was expecting. You’re fine to go to your quarters.”
“Yes Lord, but-”
“Solomon is fine.”
“Okay Solomon, but first I need to tell you something.”
He frowned. “Go ahead.”
“I believe there’s something strange going on in this manor. I was told I’d be given free reign of the guest quarters, but the kitchens are entirely off limits to me, and anytime I left your suite to ask a question or check on Duncan I was always followed by one of their maids. From what you and the other servants told me before I came, this is highly unusual.
Solomon nodded. “You’re right, that is suspicious. For now, just proceed as usual. Don’t dig into anything or try sneaking around. Whatever might be going on, we’re guests. I doubt we’re in danger.” He was lying. Given what he’d seen earlier there was at least a chance that they were in danger. He didn’t think so, given how high risk attacking Morrow would be, particularly through a violation of guest rights. Still, he didn’t want Melissa to put herself at risk. He also wasn’t sure if they were being monitored that very moment. It wasn’t unusual for guest quarters to have some hidden method of spying within them.
“The lord of the manor is entitled to his secrets. Let’s not attempt to stir them up.”
“Okay Solomon. I won't pry into anything.”
He nodded and she walked out of the room into the attached servant’s quarters. Once she was gone he peeled off his clothes and took a few moments to clean up. Once he was done he sat in the bed and attempted to examine his mana. It was churning again, running wild. He pulled a vial from his coat and examined the blood within. He could feel his mana inside of it. He cast blood control and carefully drew out a thimble of blood, making it dance around a bit before returning it to the vial. He kept the coat in front of himself to obscure what he was doing, as if he was searching for something within a pocket. As he suspected, his blood control was perfectly in control in spite of the difficulties he was having with his mana. He knew if he attempted to cast a different spell though, it would be different.
He thought back to each time his mana had been out of control and what had seemed to make it calm. When he’d first completed the mana transference ritual it had run wild, feeling as if it would overtake him, but once he’d awoken it had been far more under control. After that it had gradually come under control, but his control had increased seemingly at random, before fading again. The largest increase aside from after he’d first gained the mana was when he’d saved the trapper. Otherwise the increase in control had seemed steady.
He thought through each event, remembering how often he’d hallucinate those who were under his authority as hurt or in trouble as elves. That had to be an afteraffect of absorbing the mana of the elven god. It was helping his subjects. That was the key to it. When he acted in service of his people, whether through magic or otherwise, it calmed the mana of the god within him. Now that he was far from his responsibilities, even if he was acting generally in the interest of those he was responsible for, his mana was acting up again. Was that how the god’s mana had worked before he’d stolen it? It seemed he was now bound to those same rules. At least in the short term. That didn’t explain why blood control didn’t seem to be affected by his chaotic mana, but at least he felt as if he had the answer to one of his questions.
He carefully hung up his coat and lay back down in bed. It was a modern style without a canopy, so he found himself staring at the relief of flowers made from plaster that hung above him. After a few minutes, the exhaustion of a day's travel, a night's gambling, and an early morning’s secrets, he managed to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.
He was awoken early in the morning by Melissa placing a hot cup of coffee on the table beside the bed.
He lifted himself up, yawning as he carefully grasped the steaming mug in his hand and took a sip.
“Thank you for having this ready for me.”
“Of course.”
She stood still for a few moments, her face tense and her brow furrowed.
Solomon looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
“I know you asked that I not do anything additional, and I promise you that I did not, but I wish to tell you something that Duncan informed me of when I checked on him this morning.”
Solomon took a long sip of coffee.
“Go ahead, but try to be quiet,” he said softly.
“He found a large number of guns stockpiled in a hidden cellar within the stable.”
Solomon let out a long breath and took another sip of his coffee.