Chapter 120: Fall Cleaning

A group of shadowy figures moved under the aegis of a powerful shadow. A handsome man led them hand in hand across the main square of Kazar under the dying leaves of the Lilac tree. They moved in perfect silence. Some of the guards walked by and missed the group completely. In fact, they did not even look in the proper direction.

 

The second man stopped by the town hall’s entrance and worked on the barred gates. The third man had said that the tower was too heavily protected now, but the gold wasn’t there. No one had carried a heavy charge into the fortified edifice. The guards had, however, taken the most defensible cart into a secured warehouse.

 

The second man finished and the gate was opened, its enchantment remaining silent. The group snuck through the narrow opening and closed the path behind them. The portal pivoted on oiled hinges in preternatural silence. They did not leave traces behind.

 

Once in the town hall’s compound, the first man led the other through stone paths to their target. They met no one on the way but still exercised caution. They had not lasted this long by being careless. The third man checked every intersection for alarms and every arch for wards. The fourth man said there were dogs but the dogs were asleep. All was going well.

 

They found the place locked tight.

 

It was a structure of decent size, probably used for supplies rather than long term storage. The third man walked around the structure and jumped on the roof but found no ingress. There was only the large entrance, locked and warded with care. The team stopped and huddled.

 

“I can sense gold inside,” the fifth man said, “at least… twenty-five talents. Perhaps more.”

 

“Not exactly a fortune to change the tide of war,” the third man said.

 

“That’s just the gold,” the first man said. “There could be silver as well. Gems. Cores. Good enough for me. We get it and then we leave.”

 

“We do?” the second asked.

 

“Yeah. She may be naive but those Hadal pricks trust her. They could say yes where they refused Solar. And we don’t hold a candle to those fuckers. Enough talks, let’s get in.”

 

The second man worked on the wards while the rest of the team oiled the hinges. Nothing would be left to chance. Every ward was undone with utmost care, even if it was not connected to the caster anymore.

 

“The tower is too far and they didn’t have enough time. Otherwise we’d have to dig a hole through the far side.”

 

“Small blessings.”

 

Finally, it was done. The group opened the door without alarm and stepped in. The group did find a curious bundle of covers on the far side. The second man took out a lantern from his bag and lit it. The glow cast a light on the inside, but nobody outside would see anything.

 

There were really a lot of covers on the ground.

 

The men stood, nonplussed.

 

A reptilian head covered in white scales unexpectedly emerged from the pile, glaring blearily at the intruders. Its malevolent slit pupil widened in surprise, then in the darkest of furies.

 

“Squee? SQUEE?!”

 

A screech of pure rage shook the air, the expression of a hatred beyond words, beyond reason. It spoke of an outrage that only death would clear and the pound of flesh would be harvested right here, right now, without delay. An image formed briefly in the minds of the men.

 

GOLD.

 

THIEVES!

 

The dragon stood on her hind legs to her full height, wings expanded — she was taller than most of them — and breathed fire. The blast torched two before they could duck. She was on the survivors before the first smoldering corpse could even touch the ground. The second man stumbled when his feet sunk into a patch of mud. The very air grew thick and stiffling. The first man ran because the dragon was using magic to an extent where the warehouse and its surrounding had become a hostile place. He ducked to the side when the creature found the third man and ripped him apart.

 

He ran.

 

He did not do so for long.

 

A skeletal form emerged from behind the town hall’s personal quarters and picked him up by the collar in a smooth motion before he could even backpedal. The creature lifted him until he was level with a pair of emotionless yellow orbs.

 

//Well well well.

//If it is not Edric.

//Or should I address you as Ed?

 

“Ah. Ah! Maranor’s tits.”

 

//Now now, ‘Ed’.

//No need to blaspheme.

//At least, not yet.

 

“What the fuck are you?”

 

//I happen to be a problem solver.

//The quiet, efficient kind.

//I get things done.

//Do you follow?

 

Edric’s eyes widened in fear.

 

“You! You were in the room when I talked to that bitch. You fucking trapped us!”

 

//If you recall, Her Grace lured you with the bait of an imaginary fortune.

//Though I admit it was inspired to use her Imperial Highness the Princess Arthur to… exact vengeance.

//My algorithms prevent me from being too cruel as it adversely affects efficacy.

//I do, however, appreciate it when others indulge.

 

“Who betrayed me? Was it Karel? I bet it was that fucking weasel.”

 

//Betrayal?

 

The creature’s orb widened slightly in a motion Edric felt was purely artificial.

 

//We arrive and learn that a group of bandits has been robbing around the town.

//You arrived slightly before or during that time.

//You come to Her Grace and describe yourself as part of an unscrupulous group of discreet problem solvers.

//And you did not expect her to be suspicious?

//Criminals are seldom the smartest population yet you still manage to scrap the bottom of the barrel.

//I am impressed.

 

“Please let me talk to her. I’m sure we can reach an arrangement!”

 

//I’m afraid Her Grace’s sleep is too valuable.

 

Behind them, the screech of rage had turned into a low, enduring low growl over the sound of ripped flesh and fabric.

 

//And here I was hoping to hang the bodies as a warning.

//Perhaps in bags?

//But I digress, where were we?

//Oh yes.

//You were going to tell me where the valuables you stole are in return for a quick, clean death.

 

“Wait, wait, you don’t have to kill me. I can help. I know a thing or two. Do you need help with solving crimes? Because you got some issues.”

 

//The only reason you survived so long was that investigator Tars was trying to prevent riots.

//And Solar was unexpectedly rude to the Hadals.

//I will admit that you also possess a low form of cunning that has allowed you to go unnoticed for some time.

//However, your luck has run out.

//You will contribute to the reduction of crime by dying.

 

“It ain’t right! There are laws! Theft is not punishable by death!”

 

//That is correct.

//Breaking into a government building, however…

 

“Shit.”

 

A low growl came from behind, one charged with the promise of fire.

 

//You have little time to decide.

 

“Fuck you. Fine…”

***

Viv sipped on a hot cup of klod while watching a corpse swing from Kazar’s hallowed tree.

 

It pained her to admit that it brought back memories.

 

Solfis had outdone himself, this time. The golem had dragged the body of the dearly departed Edric — gone too fast after merely a few minutes of acquaintance — and hanged it from the neck with what appeared to be human hands stuck to the corpse. There were at least ten of them. It was as grisly as it was peculiar and Viv was hesitating to order it removed before the temples started to whine.

 

The golem had even retrieved the stolen property, which were now being returned to their owners.

 

“Perhaps I should have taken another approach. I apologize,” Baroness Azar said from behind.

 

The proud noblewoman had survived her recent defenestration and returned to Viv for a second round. Viv could appreciate her persistence. She also wondered what would motivate a prideful landed lady to accept the humiliation with good grace and try again a day later.

 

“I admit that the difficult circumstances went to my head. Organizing things in the city has proven to be frustrating, hence my curt manners.”

 

“Your curt manners were an attempt to intimidate me into submission and if you lie to me again I will plant you in the courtyard, face first this time,” Viv commented.

 

There was silence for a time.

 

“Very well. I see that you prefer a blunt approach. Will you believe me if I say I want to help?”

 

Viv turned to the older woman, the only trace of yesterday’s ordeal being in her guarded eyes.

 

“I will if it is the truth. Why do you want to help? If you were, you would be the first person who comes here out of the goodness of their heart since last year. Out of almost two thousand people.”

 

“Those people are refugees who have come here to find a better life. I have come to create it, make it with my own hands, as for why… do you know who I am? Please do not take my words as empty boasts. My identity will provide much context for the explanation I wish to provide. I am Baroness Azar of Sorewan. The Shadow Duchess.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Even if Viv had barely passed the etiquette class, she was still familiar with the continent’s greatest political figures. Sorewan was a region of Baran, near its center, the vast kingdom’s most affluent domain and provider of most of its steel and half of its weapons.

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“Then your daughter…”

 

“Is currently queen, yes, and my late husband was a general. One of my husbands, in any case. Do you regret tossing me off the tower yet?” the woman asked with an amused smile.

 

“I’ll do it again.”

 

“Hah! Perhaps we can work together. Although, please do not throw me out, I have a limited supply of good clothes.”

 

“Wait, that makes no sense. You have everything you want.”

 

“Yes, and no.”

 

Azar walked and stopped by the window. She turned to Viv and there was something about her Viv found trustworthy. A brief inspection of herself revealed no signs of manipulation. It was the woman’s calm charisma at work.

 

“I seek purpose.”

 

“Excuse me?” Viv asked, surprised.

 

“My daughter has a solid majority on the council. The Kingdom is united behind the king to face the latest Hallurian incursion. My land flourishes. For the past decade, I have done little except consolidating and defending my power. A long time ago, Sorewan was torn apart by guilds and neighboring duchies until I came, but these days, everything feels… easy.”

 

“So you what, buy and free slaves then decide to drop everything and serve a foreign power?”

 

“Do you know your greatest strategic threats at the moment?” Azar asked.

 

“Errr. The undead, Enoria, my own demise.”

 

“Your own —”

 

Viv realized even that little comment had been too much. The baroness’ eyes widened, then her mouth formed unspoken words.

 

“Extremely high attunement, of course.”

 

“Keep it to yourself.”

 

“Yes, I will. No need to threaten me. Although, is it not common knowledge?”

 

“Farren and a few others know but it should not have spread yet.”

 

“For the best. The small folk do not like this kind of threat hanging over their head. And yes, to return to the matter at hand, your main enemy is undead and, as it happens, overpopulation. You have more than doubled the number of inhabitants here in a year, have you not?”

 

“If you count the returnees as new people, then yes.”

 

“You face undead in an attempt to save refugees and reclaim Harrak for mankind. Few causes are more worthy than this one. I… want a purpose again. One I can fully support. Only then will I feel alive. However, I have left my estate in the hands of my partners and taken only necessities with me. You will not have the support of Sorewan, only my own, if you do choose to employ me. I urge you to do so. You know what I have achieved and you also know that your city lacks the upper layer of society and the training that comes with it.”

 

VIv found the offer tempting.

 

She had so far handled the politicking and base maneuvering herself, discrediting her opponents and mobilizing the population, but it was hard work and she had much to do. What Azar said was entirely correct. Harrak didn’t have proper schools yet and it was growing too fast. Soon, the budding empire’s size would become too great for the handful of competent civil servants the late mayor Ganimatalo had gathered. They needed administrators and they needed them fast.

 

“What happens if Baran and Harrak’s interests are at odds.”

 

“That will not happen before I die of old age, dear. Sorry to dash your dreams.”

 

“Are you willing to swear fealty to me?”

 

“Of course. I certainly hope that all of your civil servants are oath-bound. It is not a fool-proof measure by any means but it certainly limits the most dire of offenses. Please note that I will keep an option to leave, in which case I promise not to work against you for ten years, but I will not be bound for all of eternity. Is that acceptable?”

 

Viv thought it sounded fine. She turned to Solfis, now waiting in its retracted form by the entrance to the upper levels.

 

//This scenario is not unique, Your Grace.

//I have templates of oaths to Sardanal designed to induct foreign administrators to the Harrakan cause.

//It is said that a great governor is worth two legions.

 

“Fine then. First, I would like to test you,” Viv cautiously said.

 

“That is acceptable,” the woman replied, though Viv could see the hint of condescension in her voice.

 

From her perspective it would probably be like a self-employed young upstart asking a retiring tycoon to demonstrate their abilities. Nevertheless, Viv had a project and it was the perfect opportunity to see if the baroness could adapt to Harrak’s circumstances.

 

“I need someone to set up a school and daycare system.”

 

“A what?”

 

That was Viv’s solution to the orphans, street urchins, and maternity leave issues all rolled into one. A comprehensive institution would get the kids off the street and teach enough of them how to read and write so that the top performers could be trained as civil servants, lawyers, officers, and whatever else required literacy and a good head.

 

There might be a little indoctrination thrown in the mix.

 

Solfis had designed the program.