The afternoon sky was clear, letting the sun warm the land. As a result, the city teemed with people tired of being inside. Rayden, Patrick, and one other guard rode through the city on horseback, a privilege reserved for the highest-ranking nobles. Fortunately, few paid any attention to the mounted riders and merely stepped aside to let them pass out of habit. No one thought the Emperor himself would ride out amidst a threat on his life.
"I could have done this alone. You are putting yourself at unnecessary risk." Patrick said as he scanned the crowds.
"Do I strike you as the kind to sit on my ass while everyone else does my biding? I am not exactly defenseless." Rayden retorted. Patrick grunted. They had spent the morning visiting fletcher shops with their mystery arrow. The last one was an ancient man with a beard to his waist who told them that while the arrow was made skillfully, it wasn't made by a fletcher. It was made by a hunter and the arrowhead was specifically designed for large game. That had made Rayden laugh and Patrick wince. Don't get much bigger than the Emperor, Rayden had quipped.
"So," Rayden hesitated. "I wanted to ask you something…personal. If you don't mind."
"What?"
"Your wife." Rayden watched as Patrick stiffened in his saddle.
"She's dead. Died in childbirth six years ago. So did our son." He said flatly.
"I'm sorry." Rayden replied with genuine feeling and a little shame. Six years ago he was getting into street fights and making a nuisance of himself. The pair rode silently for a few moments before Patrick pulled up and stopped.
"We're here." They were in front of the cobbler's shop the old fletcher had directed them to. They entered, a little bell tinkling as the door opened. A man, slightly older than middle age, appeared from the back room with a smile.
"How may I…help…you…" The shop keeper went pale as he recognized his guests. He immediately kneeled and bent over in a deep bow. "Y-your Eminence." Rayden stared at the man, dumbfounded. He was used to the perfunctory bows of the guards and staff but this was his first encounter with one of the common folk. Patrick elbowed him and gestured for him to say something.
"Uh, thanks. You can get up, now." Patrick rolled his eyes and Rayden mouthed what? at him. Having so much reverence directed at him was unsettling. The man got slowly to his feet, keeping his eyes down. Patrick stepped forward and held out the arrow.
"We are looking for the maker of this arrow."
"I-I am a c-cobbler. Y-you would n-need to speak with a f-fletcher." The man was nervous but clearly knew something. He dabbed shakily at the sweat that popped up on his brow.
"Is there somewhere we can sit and talk?" Rayden asked quietly. The poor cobbler made a strangled noise but led them into his workshop and gestured to a table that he quickly cleared. Rayden took a seat while Patrick remained standing behind him. Rayden gestured to the chair across from him. "Please." The cobbler moved the chair slightly away and sat.
"This arrow was used in an attempt on my life. We think you may know something about it."
"I-I'm only a c-cobbler…" he stammered.
"It wasn't made by a fletcher. It's a hunter's big game arrow. It was made by a hunter."
"I-I don't…" the man began to shake all over.
"Your son is a hunter known for bears." Rayden said, keeping his voice soft and his tone full of concern. Tears began to fall to the old cobbler's lap as he shook his head.
"Please, Your Eminence! He knows nothing about this! You have to believe me!"
"Then tell me." Rayden said and the cobbler proceeded to spill his secret. Yen had once commented on his natural ability to get people to talk.
"This man came into my shop just after Emperor var Emries died; I didn't see his face. He kept his hood pulled low. Said he had a special job and dropped a bag of arrow heads on the counter. I told him I wasn't a fletcher, but he said he didn't want a fletcher, and no one was to know about this job. I told him I didn't know how to make arrows. But your son does he said.
I told my son that it was a customer who couldn't afford a fletcher but needed the arrows to feed his family. My son has always been kind and generous, so he made the arrows at half the cost of a fletcher. I put the arrows in a basket at my back door as requested and found a bag of gold the following morning. I paid my son what he asked for and hid the rest. Most of it is no good here anyway. It was mixed with gold coins from the Northern Kingdoms.
If I hadn't done it…he threatened my family. My little granddaughter…I had to do it. I had no idea how they would be used."
"May I see the gold?" The man nodded and got up and retrieved a rough leather pouch from beneath a loose floorboard. Patrick took the pouch and Rayden reached down and pulled off his boot. "I would like new boots. One pair in brown, one in black. Both for formal wear."
"O-of course, Your Eminence." He retrieved his tools and measured Rayden's feet, taking stock of the width and height of his arch, the length of his leg. When he was finished, Rayden put on his old boot and stood.
"If anyone should come asking, that is why we were here. Send word when they are complete."
"Thank you, Your Eminence." The cobbler bowed. "You…you really are kind, as I have heard."
Once outside, Rayden spoke to Patrick. "I want a revolving guard out here. Our mystery man may comeback."
"That was smart, ordering boots." Patrick commented.
"My wardrobe is lacking. It just worked out." Rayden shrugged before mounting his horse. "Also, put in orders for arrows at the fletcher's we've been to just to make it look extra convincing."
The multitude of coins glinted under the lamp light. Silver pennies, orens, guldens, ducats and crowns. The Nilfgaardian coins were mostly used up to pay the cobbler's son, the cobbler himself hiding the rest to keep his family in the dark. Even what was left far exceeded the cost of large game arrows. The five of them leaned on the table silently.
"Misdirection." Rayden muttered.
"What?" Yen asked crossing her arms.
"Misdirection. Why else use so many different coins. Whoever this is trying to implicate the Northern Kingdoms but not pointing to any one directly. I mean, if I'm counting right, there are ten different kingdoms represented here. The ducat alone covers four." Rayden swept up the gold and put it back in the bag.
"Territories." Tomas said.
"Huh?" Rayden eyed him.
"They are no longer kingdoms, but territories. Temeria alone is a vasal state, same as Toussaint. The kings have been replaced with governors, placed there by the nobility and guilds of Nilfgaard. Emhyr had no interest in who exactly held the positions. It was all political."
"Great. The one thing I'm not interested in and can't beat it to death." Rayden complained.
"Not every battle is won with a sword." Yen said. "It is fortunate for you that you have an advisor that understands that." Rayden's head popped up. Yen stood before him, arms crossed, weight shifted to one side, her face stern but beautiful. There stood a woman full of determination.
"So, you considered my offer?" Rayden's curiosity was peaked. It hadn't taken her long to come back. He figured he wouldn't be hearing from her for at least a year. The condition he found her in would have completely broken most men let alone a woman. Yet here she was.
"I have. I will stay as your chief advisor. Tomas could use a spine and you…well, you are going to get yourself killed if you keep barreling along without any political finesse. Now, have you done anything that may have upset the governors of late?" Rayden considered that but he had been too busy trying to figure out this new life and stay alive at the same time. There was one thing though…
"I issued orders to the garrisons in the north. Too many were out pillaging and strong arming the populace instead of defending them against monsters and bandits. I saw it with my own eyes. I had to put a stop to it as best I could."
"Hmm. Someone in charge could be getting a cut. I'll look into that possibility. In the meantime, you need to flex your power a little more. Time to get acquainted with the Guild of Merchants. They wield a great deal of power and influence here. Not all the members are nobility, a great number of them are, and I agree with your assessment that it is nobility involved here. So, you will join the Guild meeting the day after tomorrow." Yen stated this as a fact. No questions involved.
"Wait, what? I don't know the first thing…"
"Relax." Yen interrupted. "Tomas and I will be with you and I will keep us connected telepathically. I will make you look like you have eyes and ears everywhere and no one will be the wiser. Between Tomas and I, we know most of their dirty little secrets.
Two days later, Rayden entered the chamber with the waiting members of the Merchants Guild, Yennifer and Tomas at his heels. The men around the table muttered with displeasure. Duke Mael aep Dahy was brave enough to speak up.
"You insult us bringing such servants with you, Your Eminence." Despite the reverential title, the tone was certainly threatening. Rayden took his position at the head of the table and smiled patiently.
Ask about his wife. She's in the country while he is prancing around town with some trollop half his age.
"How's your lovely wife? Enjoying her sojourn in the country, I hope. I wonder, what would she think coming home to find another woman's hair on her pillow." Rayden leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. He was thoroughly enjoying this. "Who is she exactly? An actress? Singer? Hmm…" Rayden leaned back in his seat and gave them all a predatory grin. "Make no mistake, gentlemen, I may have a reputation as a nice guy, but I am not a push over…Duke. Now, shall we begin?"
Summer was in full swing and Rayden was bored out of his mind. Yen had been giving him 'political lessons'. It made him want to puke but, once he understood the rules, he was damn good at it. He knew how people thought and that didn't change between high and low born. A good man was a good man with or without lots of coin. The same was true of evil.
He had been playing their game for the last few months, although by his own rules. Yen had drug him to one Guild meeting after another. The Guild leaders changed the location, yet he still managed to show up, making them wonder who told. Watching their growing paranoia was fun. Rayden continued to smile, give his two cents, much to their consternation. But playing the polite politician was getting old. He had just returned from one such meeting and was very annoyed. Eskel had tried to settle his anger while Tomas sat diligently writing and Yen huffed, to no avail. He had 'flexed' his power and no results were forthcoming.
The main hall doors opened, and loud voices could be heard. Two large guards half drug a foppishly dressed man before the dais and dropped him. Finally, something interesting was happening. He raised an eyebrow at the guards and gestured for them to speak.
"Your Eminence. We found this man in the inner courtyard. He claims to have information for you." The guards stepped back. Rayden eyed the visitor suspiciously.
Careful. He is a Leuvaarden but he is also a de Wett lackey. Yen warned him in his head. The Leuvaarden clan, while not nobility, were of the wealthy merchant class and were just as influential. Some, like Declan, the aged patriarch, were reasonably trustworthy. Others, like the one before him were opportunists. The de Wetts could not be trusted at all.
"Let's hear it." Rayden said not bothering to mask his bad humor. The little man shifted uneasily.
"You Eminence can't really expect me to reveal it in present company." His eyes shifted to Eskel then to Yennifer.
"I can and do. Now spill it before I spill your guts." Rayden stood and rested his hand on the dagger at his thigh. The man's eyes shifted to Eskel again as he muttered.
"…filthy mutant…" The rest went unheard. Rayden pulled his sword and let out a yell as he swung it. Patrick was too far to stop him, and Yen was too shocked to counter in time. Rayden's knuckles were white as he gripped his weapon and brought it down only to meet with another steel blade instead of flesh and bone.
Eskel had reacted with lightning speed, blocking his son's rash decision with his own blade. Rayden seethed with anger.
"Don't do this," Eskel said as he gently pushed back with his sword. "This isn't you, Rayden. Let the anger go. Remember what I have told you about those who insult me," he said softly. Rayden recalled his weapon and stormed up the steps of the dais. Turning he pointed his sword at the man now cowering on the floor. He had apparently also wet himself in fear.
"That 'filthy mutant' who just saved your life is my father and will be treated with the utmost respect! Speak like that in my hearing again and you will die. Now say your piece you filth. Speak!" Rayden roared when the spy continued to cower.
"T-the one who wishes you dead is in the north. I overheard my master speak of it."
"Who in the north?" Rayden asked, his voice hard as steel.
"I heard no name. My Uncle demanded I tell you." He fished out a letter with the Leuvaarden seal stamped on it. Yen quickly snatched the letter and broke the seal.
"Who is your master?" Rayden continued to question him. The man shook his head. "Someone in house de Wett last I heard." The man's face went pale while Rayden gave him a small smile. "Lock him up for his insolence." The two guards stepped forward, grabbed his arms, and drug him to the dungeon. When his screams of protest could no longer be heard, Yen spoke.
"I believe he is telling the truth. This is Declan's signet at the bottom of the letter. Our little friend's name is Beau and the family is aware of his nefarious ties. He says he pledges his loyalty to you. As a friend to…Geralt…he trusts that Eskel raised a man worthy of the throne."
"I have heard Triss mention Declan Leuvaarden. She said he was instrumental in assisting them before Foltest's assassination as well as after. He also had his hand in the mess with Radovid. Whoever controls Redania has some control over Novigrad. At least over land." Rayden felt suddenly exhausted. All his rage was temporarily spent. It wasn't just the insult to Eskel. It was everything building up. Rayden fell back into his throne and leaned on his knees, hands rubbing hard over his face. This was getting to be too much. He was tired, angry and frustrated.
"Oh gods, I need to get laid," he muttered. He heard a slight chuckle from his right. He peered out from between his fingers at Eskel. "Did I just say that out loud?" Eskel nodded, smiling. Tomas shuffled a bit at his other side and Yen made an exasperated sound and left.
"Well, uh, Your Eminence…we could summon a lady from one of the, uh… houses…discreetly of course…"
"Stooop." Rayden eyed his clerk as if he had just grown a second head. He let out a heavy sigh and sat back. "No, what I need to do is get married." Tomas brightened.
"Oh, well, that will be much simpler. I will send a notice to the great lords…."
"Tomas?"
"Yes?"
"Stop," Rayden said softly. "My bride will be a woman of my own choosing. I need to be able to trust whoever shares my bed. I'm rather tired of sleeping with one eye open."
"Have someone in mind?" Eskel asked, a knowing look in his eye. Rayden grinned.
"I feel like a trip home. Would you let Mother know I'm coming?"