A few minutes later, mage and steward stood staring at the stables, Dwayne holding his nose while Galkin bore the stink of neglected hay, rotting wood, and long dried horse feces with wide eyes and a clenched jaw. Walcrest’s stables were tucked behind the eastern wing, and since he’d been staying in the western wing, Dwayne had had no idea they were this bad.
Judging by the fury building on the steward’s face, Galkin also had been unaware of the state of the stables. He stomped forward. “This is unacceptable. Where is the stable master?”
“You didn’t know they were like this?” asked Dwayne.
Galkin’s face settled into a scowl. “I was assured that the stables were ready to receive their master. If Lord Kalan and yourself had arrived on horses, there would have been hell to pay.”
Dwayne shrugged. “Ah, maybe-“
“Oi, who are you lot?” A one legged man with one crutch hobbled past them and stood between them and the stables, wielding his crutch like a club. “I’ll not abide a savage and a heathen gawking at the estate. Get out before I knock you out!”
Galkin stepped forward, his scowl now replaced with a placid expression. “I am Rodion Galkin, steward of this estate.” His voice was low, and he enunciated each word carefully. “This is the heir to Walcrest, Dwayne.”
The man raised an eyebrow and looked Dwayne up and down, a ghost of a sneer on his face.
Dwayne’s fists tightened. “I see you need a demonstration.”
The man’s eyes widened. “No, I don’t need nothing demon like, that’s for sure.”
Dwayne knocked away the crutch, pushed past the man, and approached the closest stable. There, he pulled out one of the three vials he’d prepared yesterday. Of course, he could just burn the place down, but he wanted to impress the man, not scare him. Armsford wrote that awe, not fear, was the best emotion to invoke, and besides, he needed the stables intact.
The vial he’d selected was the result of Mei’s hunts, Magdala’s knowledge, and his own experiments. Mei had found a snake that pulled its prey into its mouth with magic, Magdala had created an ambersoul suspension, and Dwayne had figured out the right balance of ambersoul to snake tissue. This would work. He held the vial in his fist and imagined a wind blowing towards him. “Qemimaem.”
A blast of wind blew out of the stable, throwing its contents into Dwayne’s face. When the spell was finished, the stable was clean, but the yard and the mage were not. Dwayne felt light headed. He’d failed.
“Oh, wow.” The one legged man worked his way over to Dwayne, his mouth opened wide. He performed a hasty bow. “Lord mage. I assumed-“
Galkin joined them. “This is Lord Kalan’s apprentice. What did you expect?”
Dwayne glanced at the steward, who was definitely hiding a smile, but at least his anger was gone. Breathing through his nose, Dwayne said, “Now that that’s clear. Who are you?”
The man stood up straight, his hands trembling. “Lucas Forster, milord. My family has run this stable for generations.”
Dwayne’s heart fell. He’d scared Forster into believing that his livelihood would be taken away from him. Dwayne was not going to enjoy being a lord, and if things kept going like this, he was going to end up exhausted. Still, he pressed on. The Responsibilities of a Noble Mage mentioned three steps to take in scenarios like this. “So, it’s your responsibility to keep these facilities ready at all times, yes?”
Forster nodded.
Galkin coughed.
Forster got the hint. “Yes, milord!”
Step one, remind them what their role was. Now, step two. After slipping the vial back into his pocket, Dwayne faced the stable master. “Mr. Forster. Lord Gallus, the commander of the Southern Line Garrison, is coming here to Walcrest. I’m told that he’s a great horseman. Of course, we could rely on the garrison to house his horses but…”
Forster’s lips curled. “Those children hardly know which end of the horse leads the beast.” His eyes slid to Galkin. “Milord.”
Good, he understood what was at stake, though Dwayne could do without the surliness. Now, the last step.
He gestured to the stables. “Quite, but I don’t think these are up to snuff. What do you suggest we do?”
Forster froze, his eyes darting around, searching for a trick. Galkin frowned, but Dwayne just waited. There was only one person here who knew what the stables needed.
Forster did not disappoint. He started to count on his fingers. “I need two carpenters, five boys for mucking this out out, 400 douns of hay, and as much of the best oats you can get.” His eyes turned inwards. “Lord Gallus probably wants his horses to be ready at a moment’s notice, and that’s the least we’ll need to keep them that way.”
“And that’ll be a enough?” asked Galkin.
Forster sneered. “Yes, that should do it.”
Dwayne patted the stable master on the shoulder. “I’ll hold you to that. Prove that your family deserves its place here at Walcrest, and you’ll have what you need shortly. Come, Galkin.” Dwayne turned on his heel and walked away, aware that hay and other less bearable things were dripping off him as he walked.
The steward hurried after him. “That was impressive, my lord. Though your magical demonstration was… messy.”
Dwayne grimaced. “I didn’t think that part through.”
“Clearly, my lord.”
“Where am I going to get all these people? What happened to everyone?”
“Lord Kalan was gone for a long time, and people don’t like to be idle. So they moved on.”
Dwayne nodded. “Then we’ll need to get them back or replace them. First, let’s check on the wall though. I think-“
Bells filled the air.
Galkin caught Dwayne’s sleeve, keeping him from running off.
“I have to go!” said Dwayne.
“It’s not Lord Kalan,” said the steward. “Listen.”
The bells that had sounded for Lord Kalan’s attack had been higher pitched and more urgent.
“There’s been an attack on the town,” Galkin said.
“Then we should go anyway.” Dwayne pulled his sleeve free. “I’m going to help.” It was his responsibility after all.
Admaeus Speaks 