Tyrant's Obsession With The Heiress

Van Merikh cast his second-in-command a rather glaring look, as if trying to interpret a hidden implication in his statement.

Lyall McShane had served Van Merikh for nearly six fruitful years, an efficient war machine much like his liege.

He was perhaps the only man audacious enough in Van Merikh's army who could speak to him without cowering.

Such was their friendship and brotherhood after years of spilling blood alongside each other. And as twisted as it might have sounded, the manners of bonds amongst beasts were not to be understood.

After a moment, Van Merikh realised his foolishness and made for the wine pitcher in the corner of the solar.

And Lyall observed as his liege took a long drink from the pitcher; he knew Van Merikh well enough to understand that the man appeared deeply troubled by something.

As emotionless as Orpheus Van Merikh was, his cranky manner gave way to his troubles.

"What is wrong, my Lord?" Lyall asked quietly, crossing his arms over his plate armour.

Van Merikh swallowed with satisfaction, inhaled a deep breath, and downed several more swallows, earning a raised eyebrow from Lyall before he set the pitcher down.

"Why do you ask?" Van Merikh responded without looking at him.

"You seem at unease, almost edgy," Lyall dared to voice, but he knew well there wouldn't be any consequence to his words. "Is something not to your liking or do you have something more on your mind?"

Van Merikh would not speak his mind to his second-in-command.

Certainly he was troubled by Lady Karina, but Lyall didn't need to know of it.

"The myth of beasts surrounding Moonveil," Van Merikh stated. "Simply interrogating the lady will do no good. I must observe her and search for any evidence of a mark."

"Do you truly believe the Reinhardt bloodline are 'Beast Whisperers' as they call them in the myths?"

Van Merikh did not answer.

He simply shook his head which was not an indication of an answer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Is the lady standing yet?"

Lyall's gaze shifted to the lancet window and he peered outside.

"Aye," he said a moment after. "The lady is moving slowly, but she is moving."

"Good. Get her in here."

Lyall departed from the solar only to return a moment later with a dishevelled figure. He held onto Lady Karina's arm as if fearful that she would topple over again; she was still an odd shade of grey.

And out of necessity, not kindness, Lyall directed her to the nearest chair and she sat heavily, bringing a shaking hand to her forehead as her mind still raced from the horrors of the Bailey.

Van Merikh stood several feet away; he observed Lady Karina closely, almost curiously, wondering why she was so shaken by the sight of dead men.

Did the pampered heiress never see a corpse before?

Or was it because she'd never seen them frozen and impaled before?

And suddenly it occurred to him that perhaps some wine would fortify her nerves.

Without care, Van Merikh poured her a sloppy cup and handed it to Lyall to deliver, who simply jerked it towards her face.

Lady Karina accepted the cup with quaking hands, bringing it to her lips in a rush as she downed the liquid in a few seconds, draining the cup of its last drops.

"Now," Van Merikh said; he would not acknowledge or address her previous outburst in the bailey. "We will move on to the more important matters. You will list all of Moonveil's sundry functions, no matter how small, and give me an estimate of return."

If he was ever to learn of Moonveil magical secrets, Van Merikh knew he would have to unveil its functions and riches first.

Lady Karina looked up at him, her face pale and her usually pretty emerald eyes red from weeping too much; it tugged at something unknown in Van Merikh.

"May I have more wine?"

Silently, without an order, Lyall poured her another cup and then the men waited until she was done downing it just as eagerly as she had done with the first cup.

Wiping her mouth delicately with her hand, Lady Karina returned her gaze to the enormous warrior.

"Why did you do that to my father's men?" Her question was hardly above a whisper.

Van Merikh had almost responded by asking her what she had meant.

What horrors he brought upon the bailey was part of his normal routine.

However, he realised the manner of Lady Karina's question and instead of being inflamed by it, he actually searched for an answer that would warrant some sense to the sheltered lady of Moonveil.

Van Merikh didn't understand why he should indulge her, but gazing into that lovely face, the tugging in his chest was beginning to overtake his torso.

He was coming to despise the sensation.

"That is the manner and reality of war." Van Merikh replied. "Your father is a warrior. Surely, you must understand something of it."

Lady Karina lifted her slender shoulders, looking back to her cup. "Moonveil has always been peaceful for as long as I can remember. My father has only quelled two skirmishes in the past ten years and both of those were on the borders, not at the castle. I've never seen a siege before."

Van Merikh arched his brow. "You had better get accustomed to it, Lady."

Lady Karina's head snapped up. "But you already have Moonveil. Why must I become accustomed to this…" She paused, searching for a word. "...this horror? Why did you put those honourable men on stakes to rot?"

"They are shelled with ice, they will in fact not rot," Lyall spoke out of turn but quickly quietened himself when his liege shot him a glare.

Van Merikh's dual-coloured eyes flashed. "I am not here to answer your questions, Lady. You will answer mine. I will again repeat my demand of a tally of Moonveil's sundry functions and take."

Lady Karina's emerald eyes flashed as well; some of the colour that had been lost earlier was returning to her cheeks.

"Moonveil has three hundred head of sheep to be shorn twice a year and the wool is sold at the markets in Karmel and Fordiburgh," Lady Karina began to relate. "Depending on the market price, we can glean as much as ten gold marks per bale of quality wool."

If Van Merikh was impressed at all with her knowledge of the keep's riches, he did not show it.

"Three hundred head will bring fifteen hundred gold marks if the market rate is high," she continued, her fingers tightening around her cup. "This is also open to negotiation, of which I am most proficient."

She was speaking quickly and quite angrily by now. "As for the other sundry functions, we harvest lumber from the Zephyr Forest to the north, which we also take to the market at Bronwyn come spring. That is also when we do bulk purchasing for the castle, such as manufactured goods. Bronwyn has more of an export market than Karmel and we purchase all manner of goods from across the sea."

Van Merikh set one hand on his hip, stroking his chin, which bore a light stubble since the day of his invasion.

"Anything else?"

Lady Karina took in a deep breath before she began speaking again, her patience wearing thin just as her tongue grew weary of yapping.

"Honey, apricots, and cherries in the spring and summer; cranberries, apples, and pears in the fall. We have orchards of them," she completed, daring to cast a glare at Lyall, who had been observing her like a hawk the entire time.

She remembered when he had her by the hair and tossed her over his shoulder unceremoniously.

"And what way of measure do you use for honey?" Van Merikh's question drew her attention back to him.

"A full or a half head."

Van Merikh digested the information.

He was very much aware of how wealthy Moonveil was renowned to be, but his assumed degree of it had been put to shame now that he'd been educated about the sundries.

It would provide him with much-needed funds for his coffers, to pay more men to fight for him, to purchase more weapons since the majority of his men were ordinary people with no magical capabilities.

He would need all the weapons he could get his hands on to take over the border between Bronwyn and Carlton, from the Hills of Valhelm to the River Heimsdeep.

Those lands stretched beyond the borders of Moonveil to the west in a line and were the perfect target for the army of Orpheus Van Merikh.

It would be even more perfect if he could have Moonveil's beasts commanded under his banner.