Chapter 20 - The Demon Blade
Physically, the two women couldn't have been more different. Gagaran was a friendly ogre, with a hearty laugh and spectacular physique that could have been hewn from stone. Lakyus was at least a full head shorter, with a noblewoman's regal poise and a fencer's lissome figure. Even at a glance, she was stunning, with golden hair and lively emerald eyes that caught the light.
But there was something about them. A confidence, a surety, that I couldn't quite place - An air of assured competence that spoke for itself. They reminded me, somehow, of Remedios or Pavel: The way they looked, judged and relaxed, simultaneously.
In that way, they could have been sisters.
"Miss Gagaran, Lady Aindra-" Climb's voice was a little stiff with tension, but he rallied admirably. "This is Sir Samuel, Grandmaster of the Order of Yggdrasil, Knight of the Holy Kingdom."
He'd said that all in one breath. For a moment, I stared, surprised - but then I bowed to cover my lapse, with the fist-to-chest salute of the Paladin Order. "Thank you for inviting us," I said, formally. "-It's a honor to be here."
Wolfgunblood gave me a look. What am I, chopped liver? it said, and I was careful not to meet his gaze.
"Oh, I like him," Gagaran said. "He's a polite one, isn't he?"
"I-"
"Relax, I'm just teasing you. I've never been one for formalities, anyway." She snapped her fingers, recognition flitting across the broad planes of her face. "You're the one they've been talking about, right? The one who dueled Captain Stronoff? Not bad for a god-botherer."
Word traveled fast, it seemed.
"Gagaran," Lakyus said, quietly. Her slim fingers rose to touch the silver icon of the Four at her throat - A sigil of the Water God, I noticed.
"I had the privilege of crossing blades with him, yes," I admitted, aware that my palms were growing sweaty beneath their combined regard. A flash of inspiration struck - "It was Climb who did me the honor of breaking my nose, though."
"Sir Samuel!" Climb colored, just a little. His expression was somehow both proud and embarrassed, all at once; That made Lakyus' slim eyebrows rise, as Gagaran cackled in delight.
"Oh-ho...Nicely done!" she chortled, taking a hearty swig from her flagon. "Not bad, for a virgin. We'll make a warrior out of you yet, Climb!"
Climb coughed, lightly. The crack in his reserve lingered for a moment more, but his voice sobered as he pressed ahead with the introductions.
"And this," he went on, as if he'd never been interrupted, "-is Ser Wolfgunblood, of Endless Crimson Rain."
Now that got their attention. I heard a sharp intake of breath, and no wonder - As adamantite-ranked adventurers, they moved in the same circles, no doubt. It was strange to think that they hadn't met face-to-face, yet.
Wolfgunblood rose to the occasion magnificently; He bowed, so low his coat almost swept the ground. "Indeed, I am he," he said, his crimson eye gleaming as it caught the light.
"Tales of the beauty and prowess of the legendary Blue Roses abound in E-Rantel," he intoned, straightening from his flourishing bow. "-And yet, I must admit, none of them quite approach the truth."
Lakyus and Gagaran studied his face. He tilted his neck, to show it at its most shockingly handsome angle; I could actually see it take effect.
"Oh, Shorty's going to love him," Gagaran murmured, though Wolfgunblood only had eyes for Lakyus. With a deft grace, he reached into the folds of his coat, and pulled out a perfect golden rose-
Oh my God, I thought. How many of those does he have?
"Please, Lady Aindra - Accept this humble token of my regard."
"Yes, well…" Lakyus' tone faltered, a flush blooming in her cheeks. Her face turned towards his, the way a flower turns to regard the sun - Holding his gaze, just for a moment, before she lowered it.
"It's beautiful," she said, her slim fingers caressing the stem. Her lips curved in a faint, almost shy smile. "I'll treasure it...Wolfgunblood."
With a careful grace, Lakyus hooked the golden rose into the lapel of her blouse, over her heart. Somehow, she made it look like it belonged there, as if it had been part of her simple, elegant outfit the entire time.
A momentary silence descended, the air positively crackling with tiny explosions of charisma. Climb - looking faintly uncomfortable - cleared his throat, giving me a plaintive look. "Sir Samuel, if you'd care to explain..."
I swallowed, hard. All of a sudden, my mouth was dust-dry.
"Yeah," I said. "-yeah."
I looked around the well-lit hall, and hesitated. It hardly seemed like the place.
"Should we-"
"Of course," Lakyus said, decisively. She pushed herself up from the table.
"-This way, please."
The Gilded Arms was larger within than it was without. It was, after all, an inn for adventurers - And sometimes, those needs included places for clandestine discussion. As we ascended the spiraling staircase, heading for one of many staterooms set aside for just this purpose, I couldn't help but consider how out of my depth I was.
Sometimes, this world felt acutely familiar. At other times, utterly alien. It wasn't just the swords and the magic and the flesh-eating monsters; the people were different, with a lived experience for which I had no analogue.
It'd been easier, somehow, in the Holy Kingdom. There, the threat had been immediate, all-encompassing - Who or what I was didn't matter, in the face of the ravening horde. Given the looming specter of annihilation, the Liberation Army had been necessarily pragmatic, enough not to question where aid came from...But, I was beginning to realize, by Re-Estize's standards, they were dour, colorless fundamentalists.
Here, I was acutely aware of how paper-thin my claim of being 'Grandmaster Samuel' was. It was a facade, something that wouldn't hold up to serious questioning; I'd already slipped up, a few times. Just thinking about that was enough to make me break out in a cold sweat.
Climb believed me, of course. He didn't, however, strike me as an especially deep thinker - He felt like the kind of person who took things at face value. I had the feeling he was something of an anomaly, all things considered; Some of the Third Princess' naivete must have rubbed off on him.
But then again, it wasn't like any of them could have guessed at the truth. Even Kelart, who saw right through me, had no idea where I really came from. I didn't blame her; In her place, I wouldn't have believed it, either.
That was a comfort, I supposed.
I was still mulling over this - turning it over and over again, in my head - when we reconvened within. The decor, I couldn't help but notice, was understated but somehow more tasteful than Wolfgunblood's quarters at the Adventurer's Guild.
As we entered, Lakyus made a brief gesture - the air becoming close and slightly muffled, the tapers that lit the stateroom flickering as if in a faint breeze.
"Speak freely," she said. "I've warded the room."
That shook me, I admit. Re-Estize was a place of intrigue, but the thought that someone could be watching, even here...It hadn't crossed my mind.
Now that the moment had come, I barely knew where to start.
At the beginning, I told myself. There's always a beginning.
I don't think I told it well, but perhaps that was the point.
It occurred to me, later, that Kelart might have been hoping for this very result. She was too smooth, too polished, too much of a political animal to come off as anything other than a manipulator. With the Blue Roses, it was sincerity that counted.
I kept it brief, kept to what I knew; The Great Wall had been destroyed. The Holy Kingdom had been invaded. A hundred thousand beastmen were ravaging the land, led by the Shrouded Prophet. Terrible atrocities had been unleashed upon the helpless population, and worse was yet to come.
The tale grew dark in the retelling. Darker than I remembered. It was all flashes, fragments of sense-memories and images:
-you'll tell my family, won't you? That I wasn't afraid…
-gone, lad! He's gone!
-take over for me, I think...
-wish I could see you-
When I got to the bodies on the stakes and the prizing of the skulls, sorrow sank into Gagaran's broad, honest features. She squeezed her gauntlet into a ball of jointed steel, as if she had a beastman's skull in it. Lakyus was more restrained, her elegant features a mask of sympathy - Her hands folded in her lap, her back ramrod-straight, listening quietly.
By the time I finished, I realized, distantly, that I was shaking. There was the taste of copper in my mouth, and I downed my wine in a single swig. It might as well have been water, for all the effect it had on me.
"...You've been through a lot," Gagaran said, gruff compassion in her voice. Not trusting myself to speak, I could only nod.
Lakyus' green eyes were compassionate, but her expression was thoughtful, almost contemplative. She turned her gaze on Wolfgunblood: "If I may, Ser Wolfgunblood - You have agreed to aid the Holy Kingdom?"
"Of course," Wolfgunblood said, gravely. His pale, elegant features contrived to look damnably handsome and deeply moved, all at once. "The Grandmaster's words...They cut me to the core."
A slow, tortured sigh, his shoulders bowing beneath the weight of the world. "I, too, know what it means to lose a kingdom. To have your people call out for aid, and to be unable to ease their suffering…It is a pain none should have to endure."
For a moment, Wolfgunblood's gaze went distant, distracted, as if looking at something only he could see. The effect was spoiled - Just a little - when Gagaran turned her head, clearly wondering what he was looking at.
"Forgive me," he said at last, with a slow, sad shake of his head. "The memories...Living like this, one forgets. It was, after all, a long, long time ago."
He sighed, low and sad; Autumn winds, dropping towards winter. Like he was the lonely king of a lost people and a land that was no more.
God, I could have kicked him.
Climb was staring, quietly impressed by this outpouring of emotion. Lakyus and Gagaran exchanged a brief, unreadable look, one that could have meant anything. At length, Lakyus offered a small smile, sympathetic but questioning.
"If I may, Sir Samuel - this seems like a matter for armies, not adventurers. Against a hundred thousand beastmen…" The number seemed to hang in the air. A wall of subhuman flesh, a horde, crashing like a wave against the beleaguered defenses. "-you'll need more than just us to turn the tide."
Careful, I thought. I had the sense that I was walking on thin ice - A misspoken word, either way, could be disastrous.
"Lady Aindra...We've made overtures to the Crown. But you're the wielder of Kilineiram, the strongest Demon Blade." Her eyes widened, minutely; Sensing that I'd got through to her, I forged on. "If anyone can defeat the Shrouded Prophet...It's you, Lady Aindra."
Lakyus looked deeply, inexpressibly uncomfortable. I didn't blame her - I was all too aware of the internal struggle that racked her.
Through some miracle, the Interfector had gone from a construct of ones and zeros to something that appeared to be a holy sword. Try as I might, I couldn't quite understand how it'd happened, how it had imposed itself upon the reality I now inhabited. Even by the dream-logic of how I'd found myself here, it seemed hard to believe.
But it was a sham. The Interfector was no sacred weapon, no more than I was a knight.
Lady Aindra, however, was the real thing. A real hero. Upright, virtuous, loyal. Pure of heart, a defender of the weak. Everything that made people love heroes in the first place.
And she bore a weapon that might, someday, swallow her - and all she cared about - whole. A fate worse than death, if such a thing existed.
"...Oi," Gagaran said, solid but a little apprehensive. "You don't know what you're asking-"
"I know," I said. "I...wield a holy sword, myself."
Instinctively, my hand went to the Interfector's hilt. Just to remind myself it was there - A gesture that didn't go unnoticed. Gagaran rubbed her chin, suddenly pensive; Lakyus' green eyes widened, ever-so-slightly, with a kind of fascination. I had the sudden, odd thought that she really wanted to see it for herself - Brushing that inexplicable thought aside, I forged onward, careful not to stammer.
"And yet - If the legends are true - it can't compare to Kilineiram." I paused, marshalling my thoughts. "They say that the Sword of Darkness can lay waste to an entire country. If there's any truth to that…"
I looked at her. Put every iota of sincerity I could muster into my words. "-I have to ask. For the Holy Kingdom's sake."
A momentary silence descended. Climb furrowed his brow, his features paling - "I had no idea the sword had such power," he murmured, his unease palpable. His thoughts were clear as day; Is Princess Renner in danger?
Lakyus' gaze darted from me to Gagaran, from Gagaran to Climb. I sensed something that might have - inexplicably - been embarrassment; A flush beneath her skin, her lips pressing together as her brow furrowed. Kilineiram rode at her hip, the way it always did - It may have been my imagination, but I could almost sense the silent, patient malevolence that exuded from that lightless blade.
Even Gagaran looked a little askance now, trepidation flickering across her countenance. I had the feeling they'd been over this before, and she hadn't liked the conclusions they'd come to.
"I…" she began, and I felt a pang of guilt for putting her on the spot like this. But this was larger than that. If there was anything in this strange, alien world that I cared about-
...I cared about the Holy Kingdom.
Not all of it, of course. That was too much for me to grasp. But Remedios' unflinching implacability, Jozan's dogged heroism, Heiter's silent competence and Pavel's cheerful, almost familial lethality - That was what it meant to me.
That was worth fighting for.
Only Wolfgunblood was smiling, his eyes glinting with an odd light that might have amusement. As if this was all some grand joke, a comedy where he was the only one who knew the punchline. It was just the faintest curl of his lips, easily mistaken for his usual confident smirk - But I had the strangest feeling he was on the verge of laughter.
I wondered what he thought was so funny.
"Sir Samuel," Lakyus said, softly now. Her eyes creased, with some unknowable emotion. "At this point, too much remains uncertain. I cannot - in good faith - commit the Blue Roses to your cause." She drew a slow breath, her expression firming. "But...Once this is over, I give you my word that I shall do all I can."
You have my word.
It's a simple phrase, and easy on the lips; Someone's word is nothing more than what they are, and it's broken just as easily.
But from the steel in Lady Aindra's voice, I could tell - She meant it.
I met the infinite melancholy of her emerald eyes, for a long moment. At last, I relaxed; Some of the tension drained from my shoulders, as I nodded, slowly.
"Thank you," I said, and meant it. "It's...very noble of you, Lady Aindra."
She almost smiled. Almost.
"Please," she said, softly. "-Call me 'Lakyus'."
It was Wolfgunblood who broke the spell, arching an eyebrow in measured insouciance.
"Now we know where we all stand...Shall we get to it, then?"
As it turned out, the Blue Roses had been busy.
The rapid expansion of the Dust-trafficking operation had come with attendant weaknesses. The plantations, so essential to providing the sheer quantity of Laira required for processing, made for excellent targets.
There were guards, of course - the best that Nine Fingers money could buy. Wards, too; Every reasonable precaution had been taken, with an exacting eye to detail. But reasonable only took you so far, when it came to an adamantite-ranked team.
In less than two weeks, the Blue Roses had set light to two plantations. Each strike had been swift, efficient, but necessarily bloody. The guards hadn't fled - They'd dug in their heels and fought with startling tenacity, for all the good it'd done them. Somehow, word had spread to the other plantations; They'd reinforced, and brought in well-armed mercenaries to double the guard.
In the interim, the Blue Roses had also hit four villages affiliated with the Nine Fingers, where Laira had replaced grain. They'd torched the fields, knowing all the while that they were destroying the livelihood of desperately impoverished farmers - the jeers of the villagers ringing in their ears, as they left a churning wall of black smoke in their wake.
"I regret the necessity, but...There was no other way," Lakyus said, her expression troubled. She bit her lip, her brow ever-so-slightly furrowed; "Unless something's done, Dust will continue to hollow out Re-Estize's soul. Drastic action was the only course available."
I wondered, just for a moment, if she was trying to convince herself.
"Oi, Lakyus. Don't beat yourself up over it," Gagaran said, her craggy features softening. "We all know this. Even Shorty's on-board; That's how you know it's the right thing to do." She chuckled, a low, somehow melancholy sound so very different from her booming laugh. "No one said this was going to be easy."
"If I may, Lady - Lakyus," Climb said, with solid surety, "Princess Renner understands the need to disrupt the supply of Dust. Once this is over, she'll do all she can to aid those struggling villages...You have her word."
His blue eyes were sincere. Utterly honest, with the unflinching, unblinking faith of a true believer. Wolfgunblood nudged me with an elbow - Can you believe this guy? I could almost hear him thinking - and it was all I could do to ignore him.
I suppose everyone needs something to put their trust in.
Lakyus nodded. She exhaled, visibly centering herself.
"I thank you, Gagaran - Climb," she said, after a moment. "Your assurances mean much to me." A wan smile flitted across her lovely features, like the sun from behind a cloud.
"Still, in spite of all our efforts...Attacking the plantations and villages where they grow Laira isn't going to be enough. The Nine Fingers must be destroyed: Otherwise, this will never end."
There was an edge of weariness to Lakyus' words; For a moment, she looked worn, almost exhausted. Like Kelart, in her unguarded moments. With exacting care, Lady Aindra reached for her satchel, parchment crinkling as she drew a scroll forth from the bag's dust-dry depths. Carefully, she smoothed it out against the table, weighing the corner down with a goblet.
I stared at the parchment. At the strange symbols spidering across the surface, utterly indecipherable. A momentary stab of panic coursed through me; Was there something I was supposed to be seeing? If my ability to read this world's writing had failed-
"I don't…" I began, carefully. "-What's this supposed to be? Apart from the obvious, that is."
"We found this when we torched the Laira fields," Lakyus said. Her blonde ringlets swayed, as she turned her head. "One of the men was carrying this, chained to his wrist with heavy manacles. It seemed important, at the time."
Wolfgunblood stirred. His crimson eye caught the light, as he spoke. "Did you get any answers?" he asked, levelly.
"A few. He was...trained to resist."
I winced. Climb didn't, I noticed.
"And he told you-"
"The Nine Fingers have backing. Serious capital support. They have manpower, resources, equipment...According to him, the plantations we hit were the smaller ones." She paused, her green eyes flickering with something like frustration. "They were side-projects. The larger ones, the main source of Laira, are on noble-owned land. That makes them effectively untouchable, for now; If we were discovered trespassing, it'd cause all kinds of problems."
A moment's effort retrieved a small book - a journal, almost - the pages filled with script written in a female, graceful hand.
"According to Princess Renner, this is a substitution cypher. She's provided a translation, so-"
"Princess Renner?" The surprise in my voice must have been palpable, because Lakyus gave me a sharp look.
"-Is something the matter, Sir Samuel?"
Princess Renner had cracked the code? Looking down at the parchment, I couldn't see how that was possible. None of it made any sense to me - I wouldn't even have known where to begin.
"No, I-" I shook my head. "My apologies. Please, continue."
She'd probably meant someone on Princess Renner's employ - Or Prince Zanac's. I hadn't met the Prince yet, but I revised my opinion of him upward by a few notches: His reputation might have been less than stellar, but he clearly surrounded himself with capable people.
Fleetingly, I wondered if Kelart had any success in contacting him.
"In brief - It's a list of eight other places in the Kingdom." She frowned, her voice taking on a speculative air. "I have my doubts, but the Princess believes that these are the locations of the other eight divisions of the Nine Fingers."
A map joined the papers on the table. "We've marked them here. It seems like more than a few are close to the capital…"
"And the brothel," Gagaran added, with a bleak scowl. "They've refurbished it, made it all respectable, but it's still a front for slave-trading. People died in there, you know? Died ugly, too." Her hand rested on the haft of her war-pick. "The girls they used to staff the place with...They didn't get to leave unless it was feet-first. Or in a sack."
An expression like thunder crossed her features. "If we could just force our way in-"
Lakyus shook her head. "...I've discussed this with Princess Renner," she said. "There wouldn't be any trouble if we could find evidence, but if we can't - There'd be trouble. There were rumors that Cocco Doll, the head of the slave-trafficking division, was running the place, but...Something seems to have changed."
Gagaran snorted. "He smelled a rat, you mean," she said. "Not hard to imagine, given how the man's basically one." She flexed her fingers, meditatively. "You think someone tipped him off?"
"Maybe," Lakyus allowed. She looked troubled, as if she wasn't certain, either. "All we know is, he's gone to ground: There's been no sign for him for a few months now. Unusual, given his appetites…"
"-His...appetites?" Climb ventured, cautiously. Gagaran gave him a weighted look - "They say he's got a thing for young men," she drawled. "Blondes, mostly."
He blanched, but - to his credit - recovered quickly. "Miss Gagaran, please don't joke about things like that."
"It's no joke, you know? He's definitely into-"
Lakyus cleared her throat, firmly. There was a faint flush to her cheeks, but she kept going - Her voice strident, as if neither had spoken. "Tia and Tina turned up the names of a few nobles with connections to Cocco Doll, but...It's tenuous, at best. We can't confirm if the information is true or not."
She reeled off a few names - Meaningless to me and Wolfgunblood, but Climb blinked.
"That's...Lord Elson's daughter is Princess Renner's maid," he said, sounding faintly shocked. "If he's involved-"
Lakyus nodded. "You see? If we're wrong, they'll have all the time they need to dispose of the evidence. That's the one outcome we have to avoid, no matter what." Her lips pressed together, in a thin line. "-We have to hit them all at once, or not at all."
"What kind of proof do you need, exactly?"
I could tell that Wolfgunblood was bored with all of this. I didn't blame him; Just thinking about it was making my head swim. He'd settled himself in one of the chairs, his head cocked to one side - Casually, effortlessly assured, secure in the absolute knowledge of his own power.
He was probably right about that, too.
"We have to catch them red-handed," Climb said, firmly. He clenched his fist. "We need clear, undeniable evidence of collusion...The King's court will settle for nothing less." He glanced at Lakyus as he said it, and she nodded in agreement; Warming to his topic, he went on; "Unless our proof is ironclad, the nobility faction will close ranks to protect one of their own. With three of the Six Great Nobles on their side - Marquis Boullope, Count Lytton and Earl Fondoll - they just have too much influence."
"Not bad," Gagaran murmured, with a distinctly approving air. "I can't remember half of those names."
Wolfgunblood caught my eye. I knew what he was thinking: Fuck 'em. Let's just hit them, consequences be damned.
I was tempted. So very tempted. Cutting the Gordian Knot would make things infinitely simple. And, working together - I wasn't sure if there was anyone, or anything, in the capital that could stop us.
But we weren't playing by the same rules. I had no doubt that this new world, this world of swords and monsters and magic, was real.
If it was reality, and we treated it like fantasy: We would become monsters.
If I'd known then what I knew now-
Except that lesson would be a long time in coming, and it would be one that would bring me no peace.
I shook my head, and he snorted. Loud enough that Climb started, that Lakyus looked up. He offered a negligent wave, from his perch: "I'll go with whatever you guys decide," Wolfgunblood said, some of the polish slipping away - some of his annoyance showing through. "I'll freely admit - I have no head for politics. I was, and I remain, the walker of the ways; the instrument of Fate."
Climb looked suitably impressed. Gagaran lifted a weighty eyebrow, sizing him up - I honestly wasn't sure what to make of that.
The Tool of Fate, more like, I nearly said. Instead, I furrowed my brow, pushing through the cotton in my head. Trying to piece the fragments and scraps of information into a coherent plan.
"These...Three Great Nobles," I said, at last. "You're sure they're corrupt?"
Gagaran laughed. It was a bark of laughter, so sharp I nearly started. At my startled expression, she laughed again, harder. "For a pretty face, you're not that sharp, are you?" she said, fondly. "They're all corrupt. All of them; the question is how much they're getting."
"It can't be Marquis Boullope," Lakyus said, her lips curved in a frown. "He's too well-connected, too canny. But perhaps one of the lesser nobles-"
"Wait," I said. Realization - and the beginnings of a plan - had dawned on me, like a dim bulb flickering ever-so-slowly to life. "Climb, did you say Earl Fondoll?"
He looked momentarily startled, then nodded. "Er, yes, Grandm...I mean, Sir Samuel. The Earl was the King's former emissary; I believe he still holds the position, but his views have made him unpopular with the royalty faction-"
"He's uncompromising," Lakyus said. "Greedy. Pompous. Entitled. Like most of the nobility faction, in fact." She smiled, briefly, at her own joke. Curiosity flared in her jade-green eyes, as they settled on me. "Why? Have you made his acquaintance, Sir Samuel?"
"No," I said. Weighing each word carefully.
I remembered a spicy, faintly intoxicating scent - Voluptuous, overripe. The gleam of violet eyes, the same shade as the vapor that wisped from parted lips.
"Do visit sometime, Samuel. We'll drink fine wine, and talk fine talk of important things, for as long as it amuses."
I shook off the sense-memory.
"-But I've met someone who knows his son."
Next: The Serpent Beneath