One guard held a sword, and the other a shield.

They stopped in the middle of the room, knelt and raised their weapons with reverence.

"This is Dusk and Dawn, the arms my ancestor wielded when he fought in the War of Unification."

We sat up in our seats.

"First, I would like to talk about Dusk."

The servant on our right stood, drawing the sword out of a brown leather sheath. The thick, ebony blade shined with a mirror sheen. Its hilt had no cross guard. Instead, the blade was attached to a half-moon of ivory, tapering down into a ribbed handle with a bulb-shaped pommel. Gold decorated the hilt in a pattern of leaves.

Castille leaned forward.

"It's beautiful."

"It's yours."

"I-I can't. It's been in your family for generations."

"It's been collecting dust for generations. It yearns to be used by a skilled warrior, and that will never be me."

Castille looked from Victor to the sword. She reached out and wrapped a scarred hand around the ridges of the handle.

For the first time since meeting her, the Northern woman shivered.

"It's enchanted," I said.

Victor nodded.

"Yes. The blade is made of obsidian. A material sharper than steel but more fragile. Dusk has been enchanted to be more resilient. It can't be nicked, scratched or broken. It will never lose its edge."

A sword that required no maintenance. I smirked at the irony.

Castille raised the sword in her hand.

"This is a great honour."

"One you don't deserve," Reginald muttered.

Victor flashed an apologetic smile.

"Nevermind him. You've done a great deed to this house, to the land and its people."

Castille laid the sword in her lap, her face caught somewhere between awe and horror.

"Second is the shield. It's called Dawn."

The guard on the left rose, displaying a round wooden shield bound in iron. At its centre, a metallic, feminine face protruded from the surface. Tongues of metal flame wrapped around the face, resembling a sun. It reminded me of the face that opened the shaft to Nostrand Del's Undertown.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

"Let me guess, it's also enchanted."

Reginald frowned.

"Of course, it's enchanted."

"In the same way a bronze mirror reflects light, this shield reflects blows from weapons and arrows," Victor said

"Dugan, that's all yours."

He nodded, leaning forward to take the shield between his meaty hands. Both guards moved back to stand between Reginald and Victor.

"I'm sorry, Jacob. I don't have anything for you."

"That's fine. Can I see the gold?"

Victor and Reginald exchanged looks.

"Reggie, can you show Jacob to the reserve room and begin moving the bars to the wagon? Jacob, if your companions don't mind, I would like to tell them more about the history of Dusk and Dawn."

It was our turn to exchange looks. After such generous gifts, Castille and Dugan were in no position to say no.

"That works for us. Reed, you coming?"

"I'll stay here. I'm a fan of history."

"Suit yourself."

Reginald led me out of the room and to the other side of the dirt garden.

The Steward shook his head.

"Refreshments..."

He glanced at me over his shoulder.

"Do you want to know the real reason we don't serve refreshments?"

"Sure."

He flashed me a sour smile.

"It's our food. It's poisoned."

I smirked.

"Really?"

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"It's not very believable."

The Steward stopped at a metal door with three dials running down its left side.

"Turn around."

I did as he instructed, letting my eyes wander up to the sky. It would be noon soon. We were making good time.

The delicate clicks of metal against metal rang out behind me, followed shortly by Reginald's voice.

"It's a low dose—barely noticeable, but the effect compounds. They've been doing it for years. That's why the young Lord was born without the use of his legs."

I furrowed my brows. It would explain why everyone looked so sick.

"Who do you think is doing it?"

"Who controls the import of food? Lady Kateen, of course, but they're all a part of it. Those... Compact members."

He spat out the last words like he had a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Have you tried not eating poisonous food?"

"We have... Every other vendor refuses to sell to us, even under the table."

CLINK!

Reginald pulled the vault door open with a screech. I turned to see stairs leading below the surface. A stab of fear made my body tense.

"The room is underground?"

"This is the Dellends. Disturbing the land is the way of things. I assure you, the spirits are fine with it."

"Until yesterday, the spirits were trapped in Nostrand's Grand Terraformer."

"I didn't take you for a coward, elf. An idiot, but not a coward. Now, do you want your gold or not?"

Reginald picked up a torch hanging from the wall and passed it to me. He fumbled through his pockets, pulling out a piece of blackened steel and flint.

"No need."

I burned a little will, ignited the torch and passed it back to the Steward. Reginald's face crumpled in confusion and then shifted to awe.

"They let an elf own land?!"

I smirked.

"Half-elf. We all have our secrets, Reginald, and if you call me an idiot again, I'll burn you alive."

His face paled to a shade almost as white as Victor's. He kept his mouth shut as we descended the stairs, stopping at the bottom to light two more torches.

My jaw dropped.

The underground room was as large as my quarters in Sin's mansion. There was one big difference.

Gold.

Lots of gold.

The gold bars glittered in the torchlight, stacked as high as my shoulder and filling the room end to end.

The wealth in this room alone was enough to fund hundreds of orphanages and feed the beggars across the country for years.

And it was just sitting here, collecting dust.

I walked forward and hefted a bar in my hand. They were heavy—at least twenty-five pounds each. The Vangrave family crest of a setting sun under a canopy of stars was stamped in the middle.

"Incredible."

Reginald sniffed.

"The cartels keep most of the gold mined in the Dellends. After the King's tithe, we are left with this minuscule amount."

I rubbed the gold bar in my hand to a mirror sheen and looked at my reflection.

"Is that why you did it?"

"Excuse me?"

"Is that why you poisoned the wine at the party?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.