Chapter 113 – The Pure Blade

“What’s going on?” Betella said, still terrified. “Who are you? Who are all these people?”

“Betella, this is the staff of the Akanan Embassy you were sent to murder. Embassy staff, Betella. Now that we’re past the pleasantries—” Mirian started, but was interrupted by Betella bursting into tears.

“I’m sorry!” she wailed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want—I never wanted to—but they had—” Her sobs overcame her ability to speak.

Mirian stared at her. It hadn’t been the reaction she’d been expecting. Is it a show? Or were some of these mercenaries less than eager participants?

It took some time, but Betella recovered enough to speak. “Draythus started to question what we were doing. Then he said he wouldn’t do it, he was out.” She took a deep breath, then continued. “He was dead the next morning. The guard said it was a mugging gone wrong. No one believed it. Especially when the next day his family was found dead in their home. A home invasion gone wrong. All carved up. Except, no one took anything. Draythus was my friend. He… he was the one that recruited me.”

“What is this organization?”

Betella seemed surprised. “You don’t know? The Pure Blade.”

Mirian sighed. “I’ve never heard of them.”

It was Celine that piped up. “A private mercenary group. They’re run by Decian Corrmier.”

Mirian made a face. “Are the other noble families stupid? Give one brother the army, another brother a private army?”

“The Corrmiers have always been heavily a part of the armed forces,” Celine said.

Mirian paced around. What would Nicolas say? “There’s two more army groups, but they’re busy in Persama. Even before the lo—before this all started, they’d be pinned in place until it was too late. There’s another division, another general, but she gets sent north. All of a sudden, there’s no balance of power.” She snapped her head over to the embassy workers. “How much do you know about Akana Praediar’s plan to declare war on Baracuel?”

“What!?” Kathera exclaimed.

Mirian muttered, “Not much, apparently.” Louder, she said, “Your Ambassador knew, obviously. Or at least, knew he had to get out before everything started.”

“But what… why would we do that?” one of the embassy workers asked. “You’re our ally! Even with the attack, it’s obviously a group of terrorists. The crown and your Parliament can denounce them—”

“Not if Palendurio is suddenly put under siege by chaos. Not if they already knew it was going to happen. I doubt they even bother to send zephyr falcons, I bet the Akanan newspapers have already published news of the attack. And Parliament cannot denounce anyone if it is occupied by the army. At least, not meaningfully.” Also, there’s that whole bit about your Prime Minister being assassinated. She decided not to tell them. What she knew was already suspicious enough.

Another Akanan asked, “But why?”

“Power,” Mirian said, waving her hand vaguely. “If you’re going to ask me why they want power, I haven’t the slightest idea yet. They don’t seem to want to do anything with it except get more, and then make sure no one else can have any. Either way, it leads them to be completely blinded. They’re so busy grabbing for power they’ve missed that the very edifice they’re building their towers on is crumbling out from under them.” Thinking about how many structures collapsed in Ducastil and Charlem Palace, she added, “That’s not even a metaphor,” under her breath.

“I don’t understand,” Betella said. “And how… how do you know Daith anyways?”

“Met him at Torrviol Academy. Long story. Tell me more about this Pure Blade. The rest of you, I need more information about communications with the Corrmier family to Akana Praediar. I think most of the deals were done behind closed doors and wouldn’t be in the records, but there must be signs. And any of the other noble families.” Realizing that not all the Akanans in the room spoke Friian, Mirian repeated her instructions in Eskanar.

Then she turned to Betella. “Tell me everything about the Pure Blade and the operation. Especially the little details. Names. Locations. Who they’re using to keep everyone in line. Who the masterminds are. Everything. If you can do that, I can make sure Daith stays safe.”

It took some time for Betella to explain. Mirian listened, occasionally jotting down notes.

Celine’s source, Philus, had clearly discovered the missing armor the Pure Blade ended up using in the attack. Betella could confirm that they’d been getting the pieces in small shipments over the past month. She told a long story about how she’d gotten into the Pure Blade for good reasons and to support her family, how she’d never wanted to kill anyone, but she felt trapped. When she’d seen Draythus’s family killed, she’d only thought of her own family. Her parents, two aunts, an uncle and three cousins all lived in Palendurio.

She had no idea who was responsible for the assassinations. Behind the mercenary group was another organization, making sure they stayed in line. All she knew was that they seemed to know everything.

“The Deeps?” Mirian asked, finally dismissing the bind person spell. She thought Daith’s sister was trustworthy enough, and she had her orichalcum-enhanced spell resistance anyways.

“I don’t know. But… it couldn’t be them, could it? They’re responsible for protecting us. And… and that’s not their purview, is it? The Department of Public Security is supposed to be focused on counter-espionage, protecting us from other countries. I mean, sure, it has spies but….”

Mirian could sympathize. She’d once been so idealistic. “Where are the Arcane Praetorians in all this? They could act as a powerful counter-force.”

It was Celine who apparently knew the answer. “A huge group of them left Palendurio on the 4th of Solem. Some sort of secret mission, but none of my sources would talk about it. They went to Alkazaria is all I know.”

That’s right, Mirian remembered. Rumor was it they left the city. But the 4th is too early for them to be reacting to the southern time traveler. So they weren’t even reacting to the Dawn’s Peace and their surprising victories, they were already scheduled to go there. No wonder they can’t seem to change that event.

So why doesn’t he try something else? Mirian had been stuck in a rut defending Torrviol, but she’d been making progress, and had reason to believe it had to do with the leyline collapse. Is there another Divine Monument down there? Is that why the southern traveler is so hellbent on seizing Alkazaria?

She spent some time pacing around again. Then she turned to Betella. “Where does Decian Corrmier live? What’s the security around his manor like?”

More wary glances were passed around the room.

“He lives on Kingmont Hill, with all the other noble families. They… there’s a lot of guards. You can’t even walk around the area without special papers. I’ve never been there. He always came to the headquarters.”

“Hmm. Anything incriminating at the headquarters?”

“I don’t know,” Betella said. “I was just… just another mercenary. I thought it’d be regular contract work, the kind I’d done a million times. And it was! For a whole year! And then… and then….” She shivered again.

Mirian looked around. Here were all these people that knew things, but they didn’t know the things she needed them to know. How many cycles would it take to unravel the conspiracy? Does it even matter?

Her thoughts shifted again. If I could cut the leashes on the Pure Blade… maybe I could even get the mercenaries as allies. But if it’s the Deeps in charge, they’re the ones that can actually threaten me. Specter was short-sighted enough to curse me, and if they’re the ones behind this, they have no qualms killing thousands of innocent people. But if it’s just the Corrmier family…

“How do they track you?” Mirian said to Betella.

“What?”

“Is it divination? Skin samples they use in a long-range divination device? What’s to prevent someone from just packing up and fleeing with their family?”

“I don’t know,” Betella admitted. “Rumor was, they could hunt anyone down.”

Mirian sighed. “So what I need to know is, can they hunt you down right now?”

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Betella’s face blanched. “Oh Gods.”

“Great. You don’t know. Hold still.” She paged through her spellbook. She’d only scribed a few divination spells. What I really need is a spellbook that lasts, she thought, for what had to be the thousandth time. She checked Betella over for glyphs, then started searching her. “This. What is this?” Mirian asked, pulling an amulet she’d been wearing from beneath her shirt.

“It’s a protective artifact. Helps disrupt spells,” Betella said. “That’s what they… oh no.”

Mirian ripped it off her. Most of the glyphs were worked into a layer of the metal that had been sealed over, so she used shape metal to crack the outer shell open. She grimaced.

“Next question,” Mirian said. “How long does it take the Pure Blade to organize an emergency operation? Were there other units ready and waiting if things went wrong? Where were they deployed?”