Tempered by the Will

18 - Threats

 Constantine watched Vica from the corner of his eye as she paced back and forth along the far wall. She'd nearly made a fatal mistake. It was one thing to bluff and threaten the enemy to get her way, but she had no idea what she was dealing with. Sheer power would only take her so far, and that was only when she was on the offensive. This wasn't one of those times. They were in the middle of a fancy estate visible for miles off, with mages waiting at a distance to incinerate them if they so much as blinked a little too hard.

What was she going to do about that? Run out of the manor and leave the injured servants to their own devices? He didn't think so. If she were a bit smarter, yes, but he could already see her in his mind's eye, demanding that he help pick up the wounded and cart them out of danger as well.

He was an assassin. He was meant to slink under cover of darkness and ambush his enemy, driving steel between their ribs before they ever knew he was there. Sure, he could more than hold his own in a fight, but under attack by four chimeras while simultaneously trying to suppress two dozen mages, even as weak as they were, was never going to end well for him.

He didn't know whether to be grateful or frustrated that Vica had ignored his warnings and climbed out of the warded cellar. All she had had to do was stay hidden and let him stall for time, and then she might have escaped all of this undetected for a little while longer. Especially since he'd sensed Felix's approach soon after he shoved her and Bren underground, too. With the duke on the way, Constantine had only intended to hold out long enough for him to get there. Then he would have let Felix handle all the politics himself, explain why he had a wanted man hanging around on his estate...and put to rest the rumors that he was also playing host to the mysterious bush mage responsible for decimating Order forces not too long ago.

It would have been entertaining to see the man squirm his way out of that, but more importantly, it would have given them a little more time to figure out what to do with Vica. This first time was merely an experimental probe and nothing more. The second time, the Order would come equipped for outright war instead of sending a little flock of ruffled, second-class acolytes to do their dirty work. After all, finding Constantine was as good as confirmation that Duke Aventine was plotting behind their backs. He would be able to chase them off today, but not a second time.

But now, none of that was happening. Vica had come stomping out, playing hero the way she always did, and Constantine was left to lick his wounds with nothing to show for it. He'd danced around the chimeras for several minutes before giving up and slipping away from them - they were too much for him to handle alone. He'd then had the idea of picking off the acolytes one by one so that he could reduce the strain on his anti-magic, wholly uncaring of the attendants who proceeded to risk their lives to pick up where he'd left off. They were idiots to think they could take on beastly abominations powerful enough to tear a man limb from limb; he didn't feel sorry for pitting them against each other. Stupid, reckless people deserved death.

Except Vica. He was a little too invested in her to let that happen. He grimaced and leaned back against the wall to conceal the bloody tatters of the rear of his cloak. Forget the servants. He was the one who needed to be patched up.

And he damn sure hoped that Felix kept an old magic healer on retainer.

The grand front doors banged open exactly when he expected they would. "All of you get out of my house!" the long-lost duke demanded the instant he strode in, all pompous flair and aristocratic rage. His charming little-boy brown curls even bounced a little with the breeze. What a picturesque entrance.

"It's too late," the acolyte from earlier stammered. What was it with the rest of his friends being unable to speak? Was he the only one with a tongue? "You've been harboring a fugitive and holding captive the unchartered mage who -"

"Constantine has asylum on my lands, which last I checked, I am still the sovereign of," Felix snapped, and several others came trailing in through the doors behind him with their robes a-billow. Who were they? Friends of his? Subordinates? "Waiting until I was distracted and detained to move in on my domain, I'm disappointed that your master thought so little of me. I have eyes and ears everywhere, doesn't he know that? Of course I would hear about an entire herd of unwanted guests crossing over the wards into my territory."

Detained? For what? Clearly he didn't mean he'd been arrested by the Capital's guards; nobles were immune to that kind of trivial enforcement of the law. Constantine decided that was the first thing he would ask once they had a moment of peace.

"We won't leave without them!"

"Or what?" the duke challenged. "Should I keep all of you chained up here, then? I'd be happy to. It's been generations since they were last used, but the dungeons below us could be put to good use again if that's what you prefer. House Aventine hasn't forgotten how to rally when someone is trying to wage war."

"No one is waging war, sir -"

"I'm about to, if you all don't leave." Felix's eyes narrowed, and Constantine noted the uneasy looks that the mob of mages shared. "I assure you, it would be a very small matter for me to send Constantine away so that I can deal with all of you. Or perhaps I should leave the pleasure to my guest, after all, since you disturbed her? Vica?"

What in hell, why was he dragging her back into the center of their attention? He was supposed to be keeping the focus off of her, not flaunting her like a newly polished weapon. Damn him - and what was she going to do now? He could hardly advise her on what to do next when everything was insisting on spinning further and further out of control.

But that sneaky halfling at her side...He couldn't let Bren be her sole confidant and advisor. There was something wrong with him; he just didn't know what yet.

"...Right," Constantine heard Vica announce from the other side of the hall after a small hesitation. "I'm not leaving here, and if anyone - and I mean anyone - is permanently maimed by what you all did here today, I'm coming to find you."

There was an audible murmur of concern and muffled protests from the acolytes at the threat, but all Constantine did was continue to stare at her with a silent warning for her to stop while she was ahead. She was forcing herself to put on a show of domineering violence, and not only did it not suit her, she had no idea what she was really getting herself into. Talking like that, she would find herself mired too deeply in the conflicts of this place to get herself back out. Threats weren't to be made lightly.

Meanwhile, Bren was doing nothing but standing there with that serene smile he despised so much. This was his doing, all of it. The way Vica had been acting ever since she wiped out the Order's forces was too reckless, too brash. He was egging her on somehow, or at the very least, neglecting to tell her to be more careful.

There was something wrong with him. He had designs of his own, and Vica was blind to them. Not Constantine, though. He turned his head and watched as the acolytes began to filter out of the open doors with nervous backward glances, followed by the lumbering footsteps of the chimeras behind them. They were leaving now, but they'd be back soon. Maybe even later tonight.

Before that happened, he was going to have to have a talk with Vica.