Blake shook his head. “That won’t be necessary, sir.”
“I insist.”
“Truly, Master William. Her Highness would have me strapped if she found out I made you pay for this, especially when it is something so important to your own survival. Trust me, the sum is insignificant compared to her accounts.”
“How much did it cost?”
“For a rush job with new weapons and the silver to do the inlay it was just under two hundred gold crowns.”
Will had nearly five hundred still saved in the limnthal. “That’s nothing. I can cover it.”
Blake shook his head. “Based on what I know of you, that’s almost half of your reserve.”
“How do you know that?” asked Will, feeling mildly alarmed.
“When the princess married you, I started doing some research. Based on what I learned from the Bursar’s Office and the Department of Healing and Psyche, you nearly earned enough to pay the weregild for Count Spry’s son—before the king paid it in your stead. Given your other purchases and what I gleaned from the merchants in the city, you spent close to half of that. Admirably, you spent a significant portion on armor for your friends back in Barrowden. By itself, such generosity isn’t that uncommon among commoners, but that was the first indicator that prompted me to begin trusting your motives.”
“Weregild?”
Blake sighed. “That’s the technical term for what commoners call a blood-price or blood-debt. Sometimes I forget who I’m talking to.”
Damn, he gets snarky when money is the topic of conversation, doesn’t he? thought Will. “I don’t want anything to do with the king’s money. I’d rather pay myself than owe that man anything.”
“This isn’t the king’s money. Princess Selene has her own separate accounts.”
Will growled, feeling stubborn. “Which he gave to her and can probably take back at a moment’s notice. What’s the difference?”
“Begging your pardon, sir, but that isn’t true. While her money did initially come from the royal family, it belongs to her alone. The king can’t touch it unless he personally overturned the control of the banks, which would likely result in a civil war. Her money will only revert to the crown if she dies without child or husband.”
That set Will back on his heels. “Huh,” he said, for lack of a witty response. His mind was blank for a moment, then something else occurred to him. “Is the cellar still empty?”
“It isn’t empty, but it hasn’t been restocked. That won’t be possible until late summer and fall when the harvests come in,” answered Blake. “Why do you ask?”
“I need a dungeon,” said Will. “Nothing fancy, just enough room to keep one prisoner. How much do you think it would cost to refit the cellar for that?”
Blake lifted one brow and gave him a curious stare. “Can I assume you aren’t planning to take up torture or other illegal practices, like abducting free citizens?”
Will rubbed his chin. “I can’t promise that I’ll be following the law at all times, but I don’t plan on torturing anyone or hurting innocents. Also, it will need to be built to accommodate a prisoner that may have strength well beyond human norms.”
“A vampire cell, then?”
Will nodded. “I need a pig too.”
“You’ll need a mason to do some work. Most of the walls are stone, but some aren’t, and you don’t want it to be able to dig out. Then you’ll need a smith to do some ironwork. We’ll have to make sure the shackles can’t be torn free. Would you prefer a cage or shackles?”
“I’ll need to access the creature to take, uh, samples, so shackles might be best. Perhaps a large cage with shackles inside? That way we can feel safe that it won’t escape but I’ll still be able to get to it when I need to.”
“That sounds reasonable. May I ask why you need such a thing?” asked Blake.
“We captured one last night,” said Will. “The things are faster than you’d believe and stronger than even someone like Tiny. There are potions that can be made to improve a soldier’s strength and speed, and it just so happens that their blood is the primary ingredient.”
Blake shuddered almost imperceptibly but kept his expression blank. “You plan to feed the pig to it so you can harvest its blood?”
“It’s a fate befitting a vampire, don’t you think? They feed on our blood to survive. I intend to bleed it to help our effort to destroy them.”
“Do you need equipment to create these potions?”
Will shook his head. “I have arrangements with the Alchemy Department already. I rent a laboratory from them. Oh! Before I forget, I need a hard leather case with a soft lining and places for potion vials.” Taking out one of his journals, Will ripped a page out and used a charcoal stick to sketch out what he wanted. “Can you find something like that, or have it made?”
Blake nodded. “We had something similar when I was serving the king. I’ll see about finding one.”
A bell chimed, informing them that someone was at the door. “Tell whoever it is that I’m not taking visitors,” said Will.
“Understood.” Blake left to check the door while Will ladled the fresh porridge into two bowls. There was still enough for Tiny as well, for Will had figured the portions with the assumption that the big man would still be hungry.
Blake returned a moment later. “It’s a young woman, Janice Edelman. She says she is a classmate.”
She knows better than to try and visit, thought Will. “Let her in and bring her to the dining room.” He reapportioned the porridge, two small cups, one for Tiny and one for Blake, since they’d already eaten, and two bowls, one for himself and one for Janice. Placing them on a tray, he carried them into the dining room just as Janice entered.
She was gazing around the room with wide eyes, then she looked at Will. “They hired you to be the cook here? I thought you married the princess.”
Will put the tray down on the table. “Ha, ha, ha. Tiny, this is my friend, Janice Edelman. Janice, this is one of my friends from the army.”
“Tiny?” she said uncertainly.
Tiny was already on his feet, bowing deeply. “Begging your pardon, miss. My proper name is John Shaw, but my friends call me Tiny. I’d be pleased if you did the same.”
A bit of color rose to her cheeks as Tiny straightened and Janice stared up at him, presumably stunned by his size. After a few seconds, she tentatively held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mister Shaw.”