After the meeting with Guildmaster Tim, I set about the last of the two tasks I wanted to accomplish today. I had brought a bottle of fifty-year-old grape wine, a tart and bitter vintage whose taste didn’t match its price. Still, I was hesitant to bestow such a bottle on Baroness Lark. Not because a thorny gift wasn’t warranted, but because I assumed a better opportunity to gift the foul thing would arise in the future.

So, I once more went back to the market. It was even more crowded than the morning, and the late afternoon sun did nothing for the odor. Merchants yelled out about their goods and townsfolk bartered with abandon. Children ran about between legs unsupervised. If I had to live in the town, no doubt I would have commissioned several bathhouses to solve the problem already. Instead, I made do with a scented handkerchief and a minor wind spell.

I’d passed the stall for dresses and jewelry and was searching for a merchant that sold glassware. My idea was to enchant a mirror to mesmerize the viewer for a day. Something that wouldn’t do any lasting harm, and would likely end up in whatever family vault she had, if she had one. Something that would send a message. I was not pleased with having such short notice to prepare.

The idle gossip among the townsfolk as I walked was every bit as mundane as I expected. Most were wild guesses on whom the groom would be. Evidently, Songmaster Tek and the Baroness had a falling out two seasons ago, and he’d departed to attempt to make a name elsewhere. While I didn’t have an opinion of the matter, it did make shopping for a gift for the new couple more difficult.

I stopped at a food stand that presented ground sausage and garlic baked in rolled cabbage. While the food looked disgusting, it smelled heavenly. There were only a few woodworkers in line before me, but they moved out of my way on their own accord. I didn’t mind the polite gesture, and I feared they might unintentionally spread sawdust among the remaining food if I turned them down.

The merchant, a robust woman in a long gown with a faded blue apron, was also polite enough to offer it to me for free. Though it seemed a bit unusual, who was I to turn down the offer? It was only after I’d taken the first bite and stepped away that I heard her screaming, “Finest cabbage rolls in Lark! Approved by the grand wizard himself!”

I stopped and turned around, as I chewed on the roll, giving the lady an accusatory glare. For her part, she noticed, but shrugged and winked at me. It normally would have bothered me, I’d imagine, but the rolls were very tasty. In fact, I did approve. Still, it would have been nicer if she asked before declaring such. Rather than argue, I shook my finger at her and took another bite.

Afterward, I wandered through the market, trying to come up with the best idea for a gift. A cradle? It would suggest that she was already with child and that was the reason for the wedding. No, that wasn’t an obvious enough thorn. A jar of perfume to suggest she smells poorly? No, the townsfolk here needed it much more than she. A fine belt one or two sizes too large? Hmm… that would be better if I knew her size.

The afternoon turned to dusk, and the merchants began packing their wares away. In the end, I purchased a simple copper bracelet. A part of me wanted to return her behavior with an appropriate response. Another more forgiving part of me pushed to overlook the matter. There could be various legitimate reasons for a short notice invitation, even if most came two seasons out. It would be proof to myself that I could still grow as a person, and learn to be more understanding.

Inside my room at the inn, I did a quick test of the ring to make sure it worked, and then took to working on the bracelet. I added four tiny emeralds, each with an elemental summon that took the shape of a stone boar. Then I added spiral and runic patterns that would allow the wearer to call on the earth elementals once a day. They were only first-tier, but given the enchantment, it shouldn't fade over time unless someone deliberately broke the bracelet. Afterward, I went to sleep. Tomorrow would be an exhausting day.

In the morning, I dressed in an elaborate red and white ceremonial robe, with flowing sleeves and a belt made from a golden chain. With my white slippers, white bowl-shaped cap and the golden staff topped with a fist-sized diamond, I hoped I might upstage the baroness and groom themselves. That would be perfect, like fresh blackberries in my wine.

The streets were already filled with merry-making townsfolk, drinking from huge casks of ale set upon the backs of wagons. It was almost a river of people headed towards the cobbled town square, though thankfully they kept a fair distance from me. As I arrived, an [Administrator] that I didn’t even have to bribe came to greet me.

“Alderman Fargus, good morning to you!” The woman seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place her face, so I nodded in return. “This way, if it pleases you. We would like you to sit at the Baroness’s right, a place of honor right between her and her heirs.”

I stroked my beard trying to imagine why I would be given such a seat, but couldn’t for the life of me think of a good one. Still, I followed her to the grand long table set upon the wooden stage in front of her manor. Already, crowds had gathered on the cobblestone before it, chattering away. When I was shown my seat, a chair that left my back to the manor, I noticed that I was the last to join the table besides the Baroness and her groom.

Around the rest of the table, prominent merchants and political figures from across the barony sat and chatted about their holdings. Or at least, that’s who I assumed they were based upon their conversations. They politely introduced themselves and their holdings one by one, and I returned the politeness by pretending to be impressed.

The heirs of the baroness, a teenage girl and a boy that looked eight years old sat to my right, the girl in the closer seat. They both favored their father, with black hair and green eyes, though the daughter a little less so. She definitely had the mannerisms of her mother copied completely considering the way she sat and held herself. The boy, though, played with a small wooden toy under the table. Not that I expected much in the way of behavior from a lad that young.

It was only an hour later when most of the town had gathered that the Baroness and groom came forth from their manor. A few trumpets announced their attendance, though I didn’t bother to turn around to watch. It took a few minutes before they walked out around the table in a stately manner. They stood between it and the crowd, a priest of Bi joining them as they did.

The baroness wore a dark red silken gown with frills and lace all over it. The red clothes were contrasted by a necklace and bracelets of bright yellow beads. The skirt was layer upon layer of thin and sheer fabric with additional yellow beads woven into the hem. The groom wore a matching ensemble, of shirt, vest, and trousers, but his grin irritated me to no end. I struggled to keep the discontent from my face.

The baroness was marrying Mirm Fenn! A [Bandit Lord], and a failed one at that. A man with one hand, that I turned over for her to ransom or execute. A man whose sole reason for marriage was to save his own skin! The baroness was smiling about it! As if this was some kind of blessing. If he said one word to me about his title compared to mine, I’m not certain I could remain polite.

I decided right then and there that they were getting the wine.

The ceremony, thankfully, was short, and soon Lady Olivine Lark sat next to me with her new husband on her other side. I didn’t say a word, but I gave her a look that anyone would have been able to understand.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she said and playfully slapped my shoulder, “All women need a good man that can satisfy them.”

Before I could answer, her daughter spoke, “And when you have a good one, you toss him aside for a bad one. This one would not marry you if he didn’t fear for his head.”

“Olivia,” the Baroness hissed, “Now is not the time for this. Please be pleasant for one day.”

“Or what? Will you kick me out like father? You gift a criminal your hand while you exile a good man. How is that justice?” Her face reddened and her lip quivered, though her voice carried enough that all the other conversations at the table stopped.

I immediately understood why I was seated in the chair I sat, and I was not pleased about it at all. I wasn’t certain the wine was enough to return the favor of being inserted into this family squabble. Could she not see I was trying to grow as a person?

The baroness waved to a servant to begin serving the meal, “I will not have this conversation on this day, daughter. Please you all, enjoy the bounty of Lark.”

In a husky voice, Baron Mirm Fenn whispered in the lady’s ear, “I sure will.” He’d taken a tone that made it clear that he wasn’t speaking of the feast, and I was, unfortunately, close enough to hear it.

I heard Olivia Lark’s intake of breath as she prepared more words for her mother. It was clear the young lady was more than willing to make a scene. Perhaps, she even planned on doing so. I leaned back, both to allow her to vent without my body in between them and to allow the servant to dish food onto my plate. The meal was a side of peas, a honeyed ham, two types of rolls, and a soft, crumbly cheese.

They had finished serving me when the Baroness’s daughter leaned forward over her plate and screamed, “Mother! I hate you! I just hate you!”

Tears streamed down her face, and she nearly knocked over a waiter as she pushed herself back from the table. With two hands, she lifted the front of her skirt high enough for her to take off in a wailing run back into the manor. An uncomfortable silence fell over the table, one that spread across the crowd like dye in water.

The Baroness watched her daughter go, and then turned back to look right at me with an imploring, almost begging expression. I met gaze and lifted an eyebrow.

“Please?” Baroness Lark asked in a whisper that could only be heard between me and her.

“Of course, I’ll try them,” I feigned a misunderstanding and took a bite of the peas. They were salted and buttered to perfection. They tasted almost as good as seeing her expression felt.

It was the fourth course into the meal when I decided it was time. The townsfolk were properly inebriated and celebratory. Garlands of wildflowers were handed about and worn by many, and those too drunk to stand were victims of children who marked faces with charcoal. I rose to my feet, and took my staff in hand, which first drew the attention of those around the table. A quick spell as I tapped the end of my staff on the ground caused the diamond to flash with a light that drew the eyes and ears of the disorderly crowd.

“My Baroness,” I began, my voice carrying over everyone around me, “As congratulations for your marriage, I would like to present to you this bottle of wine. The Contile Grapes Vineyard is no longer around today, but when it was, the wine was one of the most expensive. Nearly a hundred gold a bottle,” I paused, both to pull the bottle from my bag of holding and to allow the townsfolk to whisper to each other about the price.

“Today, should it be sold, I imagine it would garner a price no less than twice that. But wine is meant to drink, is it not?” I smiled, first to the baroness and then to the crowd. With a dramatic flourish, I opened the bottle and filled their cups, honoring them by serving them in public.

Once full, I raised my own glass of the strawberry wine they served and called for a toast. I watched them with my own cup held to my lips to hide my smile. While everyone else around them cheered and drank, the two stood frozen with their cups to their lips. Mirm, showed his courage when he downed his drink swiftly and displayed a quickly flashed grimace. The Baroness drank hers in small sips as her face struggled to maintain the smile.

I could barely contain my own mirth. I slowly poured them another glass each, grinning the whole time. They smiled back, of course, but what else could they do other than smile and glare? When their glasses were full, I sat the bottle between their cups and gave a small bow.

“Well, I am afraid that you young folks are too lively for me. Thank you for the invitation. Such a wonderful, wonderful ceremony,” I said, clearly enough for all to hear. Sometimes, the illusion spell I maintained of advanced age was delightfully useful.

With that, I nodded my head to those gathered nearby and departed to my room at the inn. After four courses, I was more than ready for a mid-afternoon nap. I couldn't have asked for a better meal.

The morning after, while I awaited Leslie and Mena’s arrival, I was approached by a guard. I had dressed in a bright yellow robe that opened in the front but was held in place by a dark blue silk sash tied to the side. The guard wore the standard brigandine armor of plated leather that all the guards of Lark wore but walked with a steady gait that indicated more professionalism than most.

The man, who looked somewhat familiar, bowed and greeted me, “Wizard Fargus, if you would follow me.”

“What do you want of me?” I asked. If the Baroness had set the guard against me for yesterday’s trick, I would turn her skin blue for a month!

“Sir, we are holding two women who claim to be your attendants. We would like your confirmation,” He said before he bowed again, and led me away.

I followed him, though I couldn’t help but think this through. Two attendants? What could Mena and Leslie have done to involve the guard? This was completely unsatisfactory. Or perhaps the guards apprehended the wrong ladies, and the two were confused for some other criminals? Certainly, they both should know not to embarrass me.

Mayhap this is an assassination attempt? I hadn’t had many recently, I would be due for one any week now. That seemed unlikely, given the crowd. Maybe some drunken lout tried to fondle Leslie and Mena broke a few bones? That seemed much more likely. If that’s the case, then good for her. I would arrange a reward if she displayed that kind of protectiveness.

Lark called its Town Hall a City Center for whatever idiotic reason that humans failed to name things properly. The wooden building faced the town square opposite from the Baroness’s manor. The cobbled same town square from yesterday’s festivities, though only trampled garlands and puddles of drying vomit remained. Even the raised platform I had dined upon was being taken apart by lethargic and hungover workers.

Inside the City Center was a long hallway with doors that opened to the administrative parts of the city on the left, and the guard and jailhouse on the right. As I followed this guard to the right, I was astonished to see that the jail covered the length of the room, with floor-to-ceiling iron bars half a foot apart all along the back wall. It wasn’t all one cell, though. There looked to be about ten cells, and most of them full of drunkards who forayed into fisticuffs yesterday.

There, in one cell, sat both Leslie and Mena. Mena with burn marks on her hair and clothes, and Leslie with a black eye. Both of them were glaring at each other in a manner that I didn’t care for. What I had hoped to be a nurturing event for the two of them had turned into something else. I glanced at the guard beside me for an explanation.

“Sir, we picked them up a few days ago by the gate brawling over a gold coin,” he answered my unasked question with perfunctory ease. Those words seemed to attract the attention of the two ladies and they each stood to greet me.

“Boss!” Mena said with a salute.

“Master,” Leslie said with a bow, though a swollen lip gave her a lisp.

I didn’t acknowledge their greeting, instead, I turned to the guard, “Yes, unfortunately, these are my attendants.”

Four more town guards had shown up around the first, though whether that was due to the spectacle or for moral support, I wasn’t certain. The guard who led me here seemed unsure of what to say until a higher-ranking guard stepped forward. This woman was the size of Meathead in stature, and her well-muscled physique put the other guards to shame. She carried herself with a degree of competence that I wished my own guards possessed.

“Sir, the normal response is a week in the cells and a fifty-silver fine. On account of your distinguished reputation, we could release them to your care and waive the fee,” her raspy voice echoed through the room, though she had attempted a whisper.

I shook my head, “I cannot in good conscience allow such privilege to occur. What kind of example would that set?” I turned my gaze back to the two women, “I will say this aloud for the benefit of all to hear. I. Am. Disappointed.”

Both Leslie and Mena showed the good grace to look ashamed of themselves. A susurration streamed among the guards and prisoners alike. I turned to leave, but called back to them over my shoulder, “I expect you to return to your duties as early as possible. Do not disappoint me further.”