The sounds of hammer on nail grated on my ears. It was a chaos of organized noise not good enough to be called music, but loud and frantic enough to draw everyone's attention. This was the earliest most nobles were ever awake, from the servants to the Duke himself, everyone was up.
It had finally been over an hour since I gave Edward his instructions, looking out the window, I'd say he carried them out well if the coalescence of builders and free workers was any indication.
The buildings used for the festival were all made out of wood, nothing too permanent or hard to maintain. Mine would be built up quite rapidly with the number of workers attending to it.
The rough sketch of a building I handed to Edward was a far cry of what it was actually supposed to look like, with luck, the builders would understand my notes and paint a proper picture for themselves. Of course, it was my intention to draw out plans for a classic display home, but with only basic technical drawing, I wasn't entirely confident in the home I had drawn for the builders.
Even worse is I couldn't be there to supervise the construction as I had yet to secure the last pieces I needed to move forward with the profitable Day of reckoning I had planned.
Across from myself was one such piece, one likely even more important than Dagena; Oteri. Currently, he had on a rather satisfied look, I needed him and he knew that well.
"Rainald, I would be absolutely delighted to help you, I just have to sit there and sip tea, maybe host a woman or two, right?" I could sense the sarcasm drenched in his voice but still, I nodded, let him have his fun. "well that would barely be any trouble for me."
He smiled, widely, as if barely containing his amusement. I rolled my eyes, unable to bear any more of his tomfoolery, "What do you want, Oteri?"
At this my overweight half-brother spurned in his seat, "You know what I want, you never brought it up with father like you said you would, did you?"
I refrained from rolling my eyes again but was thoroughly exhausted with Oteri's trivialities. It was true that I did not bother bringing up Oteri's little request with father, honestly, I simply forgot and when I did remember, I had more pressing matters on my mind.
I smiled sheepishly, couldn't say I wasn't getting tired of forcing smiles all day long. "I met with father, he ignored my plea for a lift on your friends ban." I took in a deep breath and settled into my seat, this would be longer than I'd need it to be. "Oteri, he wants you to get out of your comfort zone and actively move towards improving yourself."
Oteri was livid. His nostrils flared as he jumped to his feet outraged, "Improve you say? Be a bit more like you and Orson perhaps you really mean!" I could only let out a sigh. I stood as well and reached for his hands but he swatted them away, "Don't you touch me you lying sack of scum! You and everyone else just have it out for me, goodness sake my own mother doesn't even give my pleas any worth."
With this, he began storming off. I really found his theatrics irritating, deep down he knew he deserved a lot more than a thin-veiled lie from myself and father. Grating my teeth, I reminded myself that he was still a pivotal part of the profitable festival I had planned.
I could effortlessly give him what he asked now that I had the pin but that wasn't what I wanted for him, and it certainly wasn't what he needed. I'd have no choice but to force-feed him what he truly wanted, deserved and needed.
"Oteri wait just one more minute" he turned to face me, his face perfectly portraying his exhaustion, and to a certain extent, the feelings of humiliation he felt.
"Look, I really do understand how you feel being shamed for the littlest mistakes, and I know you are just acting out, throwing indecent and obscene parties to get father's attention, and your mother's acceptance." At this his demeanour softened and his posture loosened, I'd struck a chord, "I know what you really want is to get through to them, I'll help you with that, even if you don't help me with this."
***
I had quickly left Oteri as soon as he shyly pledged his support. I got him to get dressed for a party and meet up with Edward and Dagena at the construction site.
Orson was the last person I desperately needed, my history with him wasn't all pleasant either, I expected great resistance from him.
His room was right next to fathers, on getting there I noticed his morning meal had been left right at his doorstep. This either meant he was refusing to eat or he had yet to wake and I was about to intrude, either way, it was not a good start point to convince him to join.
I knocked on the door and opened it without welcome, once open, I picked up the tray of mostly cold food and went in to find Orson lying stomach flat on his bed, legs spread out wide and hands cushioned beneath his head. He was asleep.
With the tray burdening my hands, I scanned the room for a surface to set it down. In doing so I realised that this was the second time I'd been in Orson's room since I'd been consciously aware of my surroundings.
The room felt a lot smaller than I remembered, his bed was quite massive, he had an open space with a green carpet sprawled over it, a working table with basic writing utensils and the war table that brought me in here as an infant.
I set the tray down on the war table and grabbed the chair from his worktable to sit beside it.
Aside from the different shaped units, there was also a bulky, shoddy looking book on the table. I picked it up to read and soon noticed Orson's feet trashing lightly under the sheets. How immature.
I shook my head and flipped through the pages, skimming for something relatively interesting to read from what I found was Orson's war journal.
Clearing my throat rather loudly, I began reading aloud a particularly tense looking jotting, "Day 21, I got up earlier than the sun and quickly realize I was getting used to life on the battlefield. Usually this early in the morning I would begin the workout routine the Marshal assigned to me, but we had a battle ahead of us, and I didn't want to tire my muscles."
I stopped reading once his glare got me squeamish, I smiled sheepishly and placed the journal into Orson's waiting hands, "You've been awake since I came in haven't you?"
He rolled his eyes and tucked his journal under his pillow, "Your feet brushed against the tray if it had been a servant the wouldn't dare have me hear their clumsiness and apologize through the door immediately. I pretended to sleep because I didn't want to deal with whichever of my family members was about to come through the door." He stared blankly at me and commented, "I didn't think for a second it'd be you, I suppose you're here on official…state business?"
I followed his eyes and landed on the pin. Once again it brought a smile to my face to see the pin draw attention without any effort from myself. "So why haven't you been working out?" I pointed to the journal poking out from under his pillow, "sounds like Mathilda gave you a pretty good work out regime." I needed to soften Orson up with a little small talk here and there before I began any form of recruitment or threat-making.
"That isn't any of your business."
His statement was blunt and expected, but Orson, like everyone else I'd encounter for some reason, was easy to open up.
I held my smile and raised an eyebrow at him, and after about half a minute of uncomfortable eye contact, he gave up, tearing his eyes away, and frantically changing his sitting position.
"I stopped working out soon after that battle, the maiden battle, I was beaten, almost died at the hands of some giant fat man with a spiked mace." He lifted his shirt to reveal a large blemished spot that covered his entire chest and ran down his right-side.
Now this, threw me off guard. My mouth hung in shock as a plethora of questions readied to burst out.
"The last thing I saw as he struck me down, shattering my ribs and tearing me open was Marshal Mathilda, she took the giant down with no more than three strikes, lobbing his head off. She was also the first thing I saw when I woke up, she said she got me a healer…" his eyes narrowed at me and it was quite obvious he'd had a lot of thought about this, his resolve and believe in his words could be felt through his eyes, "But the Lord knows I should have died from that, Rainald, it doesn't make any sense."
A lot was running through my mind right now if what Orson said was true, even modern medicine would have a hard time saving his life. There was something missing from the story.
"Anyway, that's really why I stopped working out, a lot of unfit men made it back alive and even more killed much of our forces, just didn't see the point in needlessly punishing myself. "
I cleared my throat hoping to get a word in, sometimes they opened up too much to me and I somehow ended up a therapist, it was flattering at times, but not this time. "Now, Orson, I'd advise you check your position, you are the future Duke of Aville, it wouldn't be bad to be fit enough to bond with the men serving under you."
I stood up and straightened my black attire, "Now back to what I came in here for."