The Manor of the Red Leopard

[Johanna Weber]

Salia Brunnhil
Red Ajah
(Bio to come)

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Salia Brunnhil adjusted her red fringed shawl upon the crooks of her elbows. She released the Source and turned from Lamorach Gilyard. He blinked slowly and shook his head before falling into the high seat upon the dais. A fun little trick taught to her by one of her Sisters still at the Black Tower. A shame none of them were sent along with her for this affair. Phillip, the Asha’man that she had been bonded to, was still waiting upstairs. A part of her still shivered at the thought and the bond began to chafe again. She had been unwillingly made Warder to a man – among other things.

The M’Hael had given her express orders. Find the lordling Gilyard and bring him back at all costs. She had her own network of eyes and ears spread about the land. It was not long before she discovered the young lordling’s whereabouts. The M’Hael actually laughed when she told him that the lordling had done the most obvious thing possible. The moment Merdyn Gilyard tied himself to the Daughter Heir, he had all but painted a target on to his back. It hadn’t been hard to plant one of her eyes and ears in the palace. The young man could not exactly find out what that group had been concocting, but they had certainly been up to something.

The fact that Vivienne Accylon had shown up today was proof of that. That Blue was never known to actually play about in politics, unlike the rest of her Ajah. Salia rolled her eyes at the thought. It had been a surprise to find out that Vivienne had started to meddle in the Daughter Heir’s affairs, but then, the affairs of the common folk were dull. Perhaps the Blue realized that finally. Not that Salia liked how meddlesome the Blues could be, but it was below a Sister – of any Ajah – to waddle about in the mud with farmers and sheepherders.

By all reports, the Blue had been meeting with the Lordling. This could be no coincidence. Salia would bet her last coin that the lordling was lurking about somewhere. That group - the lordling, the Accylon woman, and even the Daughtre Heir - was laying a trap for Lamorach, of course. The Daughter Heir would want something from the Lordling if she allowed such an attachment to form and what could be the most beneficial thing for them both?

Lamorach looked up at her, finally regaining his composure. Sweat beaded his brow and a vein throbbed at his temple. She had hoped not to have to use that weave much more on the man. Although compulsion was a marvelous tool to have at hand, there were certain pitfalls through repeated use on the same individual. At least that is what she had been told. Salia found herself peering thoughtfully at the man. He was under her complete control, of course.

Salia clapped her hands and a small door, set into an alcove along the back wall, sprung open as a liveried servant rushed out. He carried a rope worked tray of silver, along with a decanter of red wine and one silver goblet. Salia nodded to the fellow, and he began to pour. Lamorach looked over and licked his lips at the sight of the wine. The man had become a drunkard since his son’s flight to the Black Tower. It was very easy to compel a man when he spent most of his time nose deep in a cup.

“Go on, Lord Gilyard, it will soothe your nerves,” Salia said approvingly, motioning for the servant to cease his heavy-handed pour.

“Yes, Salia Sedai, you are quite right. I was just thinking the same thing myself,” Lamorach said cheerfully as he reached out for the goblet, the servant quickly retreating back behind the small door. Salia kept her silence as the Lord began to drink greedily from his cup of wine. “I do not know what I would do without you. So good for Lady Marne to have sent you.”

That useless chit, Marne, had done no such thing, of course. It had been a useful tale though, and now that Lamorach was firmly within Salia’s grip, it was highly improbable that he would ever learn otherwise. If necessary, he could be made to completely forget everything that had and would transpire here. Were she more merciful, she might have even made him forget he ever had a son. But then, she couldn’t find a single shred of pity for the man. Darkness was the only color that stained her emotions now and she reveled in it.

“I will leave you to your audience, Lord Gilyard,” Salia said as she strode to another door set into the back of the room, “I am sure you and Vivienne Sedai have much to speak on.”

“Yes you are quite right, Salia Sedai. I shall take your counsel to heart on this matter, of that you can be sure,” he said before draining the last of the goblet.

Salia left him and hurriedly walked up a set of wide stairs that led to Lamorach’s personal rooms. She felt her Asha’man through the bond, he too had begun to move.

The man was dressed as one of Lamorach’s house guards. It really was a clever idea on his part and a quick one at that. Vivienne would sense Salia if she remained too close, of course, so it was up to her Asha’man to deal with the Blue. She was regrettably weaker than Vivienne, but Phillip was markedly stronger than either of them. He would handle the Blue like a babe in swaddling clothes.

Salia passed Phillip on the way up. His dark eyes fixed upon her face, giving her a wolfish grin. The man took just as much joy in the night’s prospects. She often wondered what he had been like before his own turning, but she never seemed to be able to focus on it for too long. He didn’t speak much on his past either. Oh, she had gotten what she needed from him on the lordling, but even that came in bits and pieces.

“Be ready,” was all he said before marching past her and into the hall behind her. She felt nothing but glee across the bond.

The double doors at the top of the landing swung open by unseen servants. Salia proceeded through them and into the sitting room. She dismissed the two servants with a wave of her hand. There was no telling how things would proceed tonight, and the less eyes the better. She could compel every last one of them, but that would just be a waste of the power and her own time. Salia and Phillip would leave within a matter of hours if they succeeded in capturing the lordling. She only had to wait and see if he would show himself.

Salia approached one of the standing mirrors in the room and picked over her appearance to pass the time. Her black, silk gown was cut to flatter her lithe figure, of course. High necked and flared out just past her hips, the dress was modest, but not vapid; the cut of it made one’s eye drag up and down her form, only enhanced by the red slashes that peaked out of the full skirt. Her long, golden hair framed a perfect ageless face, unspoiled by her large, doll-like eyes. Blue eyes that seemed to have lost their sparkle. Something else seemed to be looking back at her as she stared into her own eyes.

A tightness seemed to spring up at the back of her mind. A light pounding, like fists striking a wall made of timber. It was almost as if she –

All thoughts cut off as she felt the urge to turn from her reflection. Salia realized that her mouth had gone dry. Perhaps it was best to call back at least one of the servants, if only for some tea.