"None save I truly understand the problems of trying to breed a bloodline until it masters the very darkest of magics. There's a lamentable amount of wastage. Things would be so much easier if I could just breed sister to brother, but no – I simply cannot do that. Not because of petty morality or difficulties in matchmaking, but because the Gallians have quite adequately shown that breeding too closely within the family results in mewling freaks with the intellect of a dead rat and a congenital fondness for garlic. Both are utterly unacceptable."
–
Louis de la Vallière, the Bloody Duke
…
Viscount Wardes lifted his glass. His hand trembled slightly, a faint movement that left the wine dancing. "To your good health, and to the health of your child," he said.
"To all the best for my poor husband," Lady Magdalene said with a straight face, raising her own glass. The autumnal light streamed in through the window of her townhouse.
The clock ticked in the background, counting away the seconds. The silence stretched out, filled with awkwardness.
"So, Jean-Jacques. You look… well," Magdalene said. She could tolerate his presence. And there was enough of a hint of old friendship that she was not about to tell him just how dreadful he looked. Her own de la Vallière blood left her pale and saturnine, but he was even paler than she was – and so thin!
The man smiled humourlessly. "You're the first person to say that in a while. You always were a liar, Mag."
"Fine. Let me correct myself. You don't look like you're getting enough sleep. And you're skipping meals. And you're shaking. And…"
"I've missed your honesty. It's so much like being stabbed." Wardes sighed. "The adversities of power, I am afraid. I'm rarely off my griffin. I'm just back from Versailles right now, dealing with that Gallian madman and his too-sharp daughter. I'm not sure which one is more dangerous. A man who spent half our meeting playing tourney against himself – and losing – or a girl who's trying to be good without any understanding of what actual morality entails. Maybe if they spent less time marrying their aunts and uncles, they might produce a sane monarch after a generation or two of outbreeding."
Magdalene snorted. "That's asking for a lot." She'd forgotten how amusing he could be. It was one of the more charming things about him. "They'd have to shed their bloodline fetish for blue hair first."
"Well, we can but dream." Wardes took a sip of wine. "I'm just here in Amstreldamme to speak with Françoise-Athénaïs, and then I have to go to Roma to speak with the pope. His Holiness is quite amenable to something that has concerned us all. Are you aware of the recent infernal breaches?"
Nodding, Magdalene smoothed down her gown. "I've heard rumours of them, yes. The first one was discovered by Guiche de Gramont down in Romalia, correct? It is so wonderful that heroes like that young man are around. But I know there have been others – including one in the Great North Sea, in the ruins of Doggerland."
"Mmm hmm." Wardes shook his head. "I tried to get more about them from the Gallians. King Joseph was useless. Utterly useless. He hadn't heard of any such thing. Princess Isabella had at least heard of them, but she claimed her agents haven't managed to see any before they close. She did say, however, that her personal priest had taken a look at one of the sites and couldn't see any signs that there had been a demonic incursion." He tapped his glass against his teeth. "And that they seem to open more when the red moon is full."
"That would make sense," Magdalene observed. "That wretched moon has dominion over the forces of Evil and its wicked magic."
"Yes. Hmm. Yes. That is… something I wished to speak to you about, actually," Wardes said, awkwardly. "I know we have had our… our differences in the past."
"That's one way of putting it," she replied, lips thin.
"But this is vital. If there are portals to the Abyss randomly opening in Halkeginia, perhaps the forces of darkness are planning to invade. I – and the Regency Council – need the best minds to predict the wicked wiles of the demons and find a way or a spell to close such incursions." Wardes leaned forwards. "Mag, you have always been one of the smartest people I know. And we may have parted on poor terms, but I know…"
Magdalene smiled a sickly sweet smile. "Would this involve me having to assist Françoise-Athénaïs in any way?"
"Well," Jean-Jacques said awkwardly. "It's possible that you may have to…"
"Then no."
"No?"
The sunlight glinted off Magdalene's spectacles. "Perhaps if she hadn't arrested a third of the University Council she might find it easier to get people who can tolerate her presence. And I'm not Eleonore – which is to say, I haven't been thrown in jail by Françoise-Athénaïs yet. But also that I am not willing to put up with her just so I can throw verbal barbs at her." She drew a deep breath, and settled herself down. "Now, of course, I do understand the importance of this matter. It wasn't your fault, Jean-Jacques. Well, mostly not. Partially. It was more her fault than yours. But regardless, if you want my help, I'll work alone."
The man gritted his teeth, and then sighed. "I suppose it'd be too much to ask for you to look past your grudge," he said, half to himself.
"Strangely enough, I'm not entirely comfortable working with someone who's shown that she's willing to throw Eleonore in jail because she can't get over
her grudge," Magdalene snapped. "I mean, yes, certainly all of us have dreamed about throwing her in prison from time to time, or gagging her, or tying her up and beating her with sticks, or washing her mouth out with soap, or stuffing a honeycomb in her mouth when she opens it, or…" Magdalene paused for breath and tried to remember where she had been going with this. Oh yes. "But she's the only one who's actually gone and done it. The prison bit, I mean. Possibly the gagging thing too."
Wardes groaned, head sinking into his hands. "You know Françoise-Athénaïs isn't well," he said softly. "She hasn't been well for years."
"No, Jean-Jacques," she said firmly. "You are not well. You are ill, and should spend a week or two in bed to rest and recover. She is, on the other hand, utterly crazy. She is madly in love with you. And I don't say that in a positive, romantic way. I mean her adoration for you is a sickness. She's like a lovesick young girl." A cruel smile crept onto her lips. "As befits her stature, I suppose."
He shifted awkwardly. God knew, she wasn't exactly comfortable either. The two of them had been close back before her marriage. Very close indeed. And she couldn't say that there wasn't a little bit of her which compared Jean-Jacques quite favourably to her brute of a husband – who even now groaned up in his sickbed from those crippling injuries the servants of the overlady had inflicted on him. But that was all in the past.
"I don't need your chiding," he said wearily. "I know I made mistakes."
She folded her hands on her lap. "And you encourage her, the way you two carry on. It's not a secret. I know, the court knows, even the peasantry knows. Lord, it's like the two of you don't even know discretion. You used to be rather more careful," she added, speaking from personal experience. "Founder, man, now you've no longer got an engagement looming over you, you've gotten sloppy."
Head hung, Jean-Jacques ran his hands through his grey hair. "What do you want?" he asked wearily. "An apology that I picked her over you?"
"What nonsense," she said just as softly. "She might act like a lovesick young girl. I am a grown married woman. We had a thing, once, and I do wish that it could have gone further – but we both had arranged marriages and then there was that incident with you, me and her when we were holidaying in Roma and…"
"Yes, yes, I get your point," he said quickly, blushing. Her cheeks were pink, too. "There's no need to bring it up again."
"Good," she said quickly, looking away. "Yes, let's not dwell on that."
"Yes. Good."
"Good."
They both took a moment to compose themselves. "Where were we?" he asked, taking a long sip of wine.
"Oh, yes." Leaning forwards, Magdalene affected a manner of concern. "I may not like her now, but I can't put the good times we once had behind us. She's sick, Jean-Jacques. She needs help and at a time like this, when the infernal forces of the Abyss threaten us all, a madwoman like her should not be on the Regency Council.
"I don't blame you, not at all. She didn't seem to snap until she ordered the arrest of all those scholars. But it's clear that the stresses of the Council are doing her no favours. She needs quiet and seclusion in the countryside, not to be locking herself in her office worrying about the state of Amstreldamme until she is driven into fits of paranoia."
"I can't remove her."
Can't, not won't, she noted smugly to herself. "I'm not asking you to," she said, even though that was her end goal. "It's just she might need a leave of absence. Some time to recuperate from… a sickness, say, in the countryside." She paused, deliberately. "After all, she's always been so small and slender. The smogs of Amstreldamme can't be good for her."
Wardes looked uneasy. Magdalene decided she'd pushed things far enough.
"But that's not my place to say," she said easily. "Come, now. I must say, meeting up like this with you has reminded me of how the good times were. If I am to help you with this problem with the infernal breaches… tell me more." She rested her hand on her midsection protectively. "As I am going to be a mother, I don't want my child growing up in a world where demons are invading. That is definitely not what I would call a nurturing environment."
And all the time she was thinking what she would say to the Voice of the Overlady. She didn't like that woman as much. Her alliance – and it was alliance, not servitude – was with the overlady herself. She would need to guard her tongue.
…
"It's snowing outside," Louise said, leaning at the window of the somewhat patched-up tower. In good weather she could see the red leaves down in the valleys below her mountaintop refuge, but cloud had rolled in and now it was colder than it got in anything but the most freezing Tristainian winter. Shaking her head, she awkwardly closed the shutters with a disgusted sigh. Her left arm was wrapped up in a sling, and under her gown her shoulder was black and blue. "We want to be heading home before winter seals off these mountain passes."
"Oh, goodness yes," Cattleya said from her pile of blankets. "Remote mountain lairs are very bad for vampires, you know. No fresh blood, no social contact, hibernating all summer and the risks of freezing solid in the winter – no wonder so many vampire nobles in their fortresses go quite gaga."
"Yes," Louise said, because there wasn't much else she could say to a statement like that. "In that case, I want us to be entirely ready to move out once the weather clears." Stalking over to what had been the monks' grand council table, she took in the maps she had built up of the area. "Now with regards to the three lords Emperor Lee described as 'troublesome' four or five times in the space of about a minute…"
Cattleya joined her. "Those were the ones we are to kill, correct?"
"Yes," Louise said crisply. "I did verify that afterwards. It'd be dreadfully embarrassing if he had been mugging 'Oh no, don't kill them' and it turned out afterwards that he actually meant it."
"That would be a terrible social faux pas," Cattleya said, nodding her head. "The books in the library were very clear that even the old de la Vallieres considered it very rude to kill someone you weren't intending to kill."
"Oh my, yes." Louise tapped three locations on the map. "Now, the lords in question rule Jiazha, Goicang and Tiangacun. I am waiting for Emperor Lee to provide clarifications on the defences of Jiazha," she said, with a sigh.
"Men are so unreliable," Cattleya said knowingly. "Not like women."
"Mmm. So, the nearest one is Tiangacun, and knowing that, I chose to focus my planning on how we will destroy it. It is a fortress-city built into a mountaintop, with but one accessible route and walls reinforced with terrible magic that makes them almost immune to siege weapons. The lord dwells in the top of the tallest tower, and his thousand guard are totally undefeated in battle. They will rather die to the last man than let any pass the nigh-endless staircase that leads to the tower. Assassins who try to sneak through the fortress die to its ten thousand traps, and he eats nothing that hasn't been approved by five loyal food tasters. And the tower itself is warded against dragonfire, so Emperor Lee cannot just burn them off."
"Oh! Simplicity itself!" Cattleya paused. "I must say that I don't see what makes that easy," she confessed.
"Because the local vampires can apparently only hop," Louise said, with a smirk. "You'll just fly over the top and throw a barrel of blackpowder in through the window. Then the minion riding it will set it off."
"Ah ha!" Realisation dawned. "One of your smart bombards!"
"Jessica shouldn't call them that! Nothing which involves a minion as the ignition system could possibly be called smart!" Louise said hotly. She took a breath. "But yes. The minions assure me that it will be 'the worstest worst fun' and the reds were fighting to volunteer for it. Now, with Jessica's modifications to the minion ignition system and the use of very thick armour, she estimates there's a chance that the minion's corpse might remain somewhat intact and get blown off the cliff, in which case it's your job to catch it. I don't want to waste reds. They're hard to replace."
"Even if they're on fire?" Cattleya said in a tiny voice. "I can't catch things that are on fire."
"I shall provide a net."
"Hurrah! I still don't think it'll work, but hurrah!"
…
Ten days had passed since the initial planning session, and things had gone pretty much exactly as Louise had devised.
"Oh, Louise! I never had any doubts in you! Well, I had a few, but congratulations!" Cattleya said brightly. She smelt strongly of soot and gunpowder residue, but was still beaming.
"So," Jessica's voice came out of the magical crystal that Louise was using to try to stabilise the spell linked to the tower heart. The two sisters were clustered around it, within the central chamber of the tower. The signs of crude minionly repair were everywhere in the looming architecture. "Sounds like it went poorly?"
"Uh… oh, most certainly," Louise said smugly, once she had decoded the Evil tongue.
"Wicked. The smart bombard design worked? Complete with the reusable detonator?"
"Well, the net wasn't strong enough to catch the minion, but the armour held the body together until it stopped bouncing," Cattleya said before Louise could answer. "So we even got to retrieve the red!"
"Neat. Wish I'd come with you. It sounds wicked. Oh! Guess what happened here?" Jessica said, with a note in her voice which suggested she strongly believed Louise wouldn't believe what she was about to say.
"Oh?"
"So, yeah, your spymistress has been in touch. There's internal division in the Council! Looks like they're super-mega not happy with the Madame de Montespan! And she also reports that they're very worried about the Abyss. There might be hell portals opening up over Halkeginia or something. I dunno. It's strange. I haven't heard anything about that from Dad. So either my aunt's doing that all on her own, or more likely it's just one of those unnatural phenomena."
Louise frowned, looking at Cattleya. Cattleya looked similarly worried. "Do you think Mother and Father know about that?" Cattleya asked softly.
"I'm not sure," Louise whispered back. She cleared her throat. "This is alarming," she said, thinking quickly. "Jessica, please can you consult with Gnarl and see what you can get out of your father with regards to proof that demons are – or are not – behind this. My plans may have to change if… well, if a full-scale demonic incursion occurs."
"Oh yeah. They probably would," Jessica agreed. "I mean, man, it'd be a fucking bitch to get right up to nearly taking over the country and then, wham, demons everywhere. And then there'd probably be a holy crusade and even worse, fucking Izah'belya would probably be designing the outfits for the invading hordes and then there's no chance of us getting free PR from the headlines. So, yeah, better look for that."
"Certainly," Louise said brightly, crossing her fingers behind her back. "That is my foremost concern there. The journals. May I speak to the princess, please?"
Jessica coughed. "Oh yeah, so Henrietta got some reports of a goblin tribe moving through the mire near the tower, so she's taken some of the minions out to try to capture them."
"I do hope she's being careful," Louise fretted. "Well, that's one of the three lords dead, at least. Soon Catt and I shall be going out to inspect Goicang. I'm concerned about it. The trick I used on Tiangacun won't work here."
"Oh yeah?" There was a crunching noise that Louise identified as Jessica chewing something. "Sorry, I was watching a play on the mirror when you called. So yeah. Let's hear your problem. Maybe I can help."
Louise looked down at her notes, clearing her throat. "The grand fortress of Goicang is nearly impregnable. A great arched dome covers the central citadel, made from magical jade said to have been blessed by pagan gods. Which are probably demons I haven't been able to identify yet, but still, Emperor Lee has tried to burn it out and failed. Even if I try jamming blackpowder into it, the entire structure is solidly built enough that I won't do much damage – and won't have enough forces to take it through violence."
"Hmm. Yeah." Jessica sighed. "That's a real puzzler. I guess… they have to be getting water from somewhere? And food?"
"That's my thought," Louise agreed. "I'm hoping there's something like an underground river that the blues can swim up through. Otherwise, I might have to risk trying to smuggle minions in with the food, and I fear that won't work on anyone with a sense of smell."
"Yeah, well, worst of luck. I'll try reading up on Cathayan fortress design, see if Dad has any books on it or stuff. Or, you know, secrets sold by traitors."
"Thank you," Louise said, meaning it. "I fear they'll only have upped the defences with what happened to Tiangacun."
…
The sun was low by the time Henrietta returned to the tower.
"Yo, Henri," Jessica called out to her as the captive princess strode in, skull-covered armour flecked with mud. "Have fun?" Yeah, Jessica thought, she sometimes forgot Henrietta was meant to be their captive. It was pretty academic now, anyway.
"Fun? Not exactly," Henrietta said with a not particularly pleasant smile on her face, pausing by the doorway. "But I was quite satisfied by today."
"Neat. What happened?"
Shambling figures in blood-soaked uniforms of the roadwardens shambled past Henrietta. One or two of them might have been moaning quietly. "I defended myself from servants of the Council quite adequately," she said. Clutching her skull-topped staff in both hands, she prodded one of the animated corpses. "Did you know, the oaths of the servants of the crown still bind them in death? These men were
much easier to raise from death. It's simply splendid."
"Neat." Jessica paused. "Oh yes, what was I going to say? Yeah, Lou called. She's having fun too."
"I missed it?" Henrietta said, face falling. Taking off her helmet, she shook out her hair. "Oh, poot."
"I bet she's going to be so proud of you when she gets back," Jessica said encouragingly.
"No, I don't believe she will," Henrietta said firmly. "That's why you're going to leave it up to me to explain matters to her. All in good time."
…
Though of course she wasn't prepared to show it to anyone, Louise was glad to be leaving their temporary base of operations. It just didn't feel like home. There was something wrong about the fact that she was starting to think of her tower back in Tristain as her home, but Lord help her, she was.
"Mmmmrr," Pallas observed, from her position on Louise's lap.
"Yes, it is jolly cold up there too," she agreed, sitting back in her saddle and enjoying the autumnal sun. "A point well-made."
"Mraar."
The soldiers of the lord of Goicang had moved in to claim areas of Tiangacun, too. From what she understood of the local politics, his wife had a claim on those lands. Louise was very glad about that. It meant that they were spreading their forces thinner, and hopefully that might mean there might be fewer guards in the city. Perhaps even more pertinently, it meant that there were lots of people working for her enemy wandering around carrying weapons and riding horses.
She had now procured a cavalry squadron of minions, as well as steeds for her and Cattleya – and there were enough horses left over for her sister's dietary needs. She was wearing her full protective clothes, and was swaddled up in robes on top of that. Louise was a little concerned that the robes may have belonged to some of the undead nuns. They were distinctly orange.
The only thing that was currently a small crimp on her day was that the peasants here seemed to believe that minions dressed in a horseman's uniform and riding his steed and carrying his weapons were, in fact, soldiers of the lord of Goicang. The stupidity annoyed her.
"Maybe they're just so beaten into submission that they respect anyone on horseback," Cattleya suggested with a yawn.
No. She'd like to think that was the case, but Louise just knew there was something
strange going on with minions and their incredibly bad disguises working on people. She just knew it.
It was probably related to how those damn minions were now learning Cathayan. By wearing blooming clothes. It was a load of bull-sugar, that's what it was.
A glint caught her attention as they came around the mountain. Down in the valley below the low ridge, the sun was shining off a hill. No, Louise realised, eyes widening; that wasn't a mountain.
Oh. Oh my.
Goicang looked so much smaller in the maps. Smaller and less like a man-made mountain. For the first time, Louise grasped how that city had managed to survive Emperor Lee's signature 'Swarm them with man eating dragons' attacks.
… she was going to have
harsh words for him when this was all over. Playing with a girl's heart by setting a nigh impossible challenge for her! So cruel! So horrid! So… wait, her gauntlet felt strangely warm and actually quite hot.
Swaying in her saddle, Louise felt quite faint. She raised her left hand to her brow. This turned out to be a mistake.
…
Another hand. There's always another hand. This one is manicured, long-nailed, and cool – though not cold – to the touch.
"Forwards!" her mistress shouts, sweeping her arm forwards. Hordes of foul-smelling minion sweep out, armoured in crude and ugly hand-forged iron. The human forces have formed up in a great army to oppose her, but they are too slight, too hungry, too weak. There is no way her mistress can lose.
She feels rather smug about that. She's the best bit of armour around. Alas, her current mistress is a failure who's only acquired the gauntlet and the helmet, so she can't truly unlock her full power – but despite that, she burns with dark majesty.
"Your malevolent wickedness," says a far, far too familiar voice from behind her. "Your plan is most cunning. I await its next step."
"Yes it is," her mistress gloats.
There is an awkward pause.
"Your wickedness, do you want me to implement the next stage of the plan?" the familiar voice asks.
"It will make me the queen of the world?" her mistress asks.
"Yes, your cunningness. Your plan, ably aided and advised and adjusted by me, will of course grant you all the power you desire. As you saw with your infinite insight, there are ancient artefacts of Evil here, stolen from one of your sadly lamented predecessors by the Forces of Good. With these in your hands, surely your victory will be inevitable."
"Then go ahead! Continue with my plan! Continue with things back here. I shall go to the front lines and dispatch these pitiful peasants who stand against me."
She feels another surge of power through her, as her mistress throws a ball of dark energy at a flying crane. But this hand isn't very capable. She's had a lot better.
"Permission to anticipate your orders while you are gone, your dark majesty."
"Oh, whatever is needed."
"As you wish, my lady."
Quite apart from the fact that she hasn't been reunited with the rest of the armour, the mind wielding her isn't up to the task. It has ambition, yes, but it has no vision.
Her mistress rides forwards on her night-black steed, accompanied by her loyal guards. They surge through the lines, and her mistress' lance plucks out men from the fray. She revels as dark magic surges through her, reaping a great toll. Pleasure fills her to bursting as she is thrust into the hearts of men and torn out, red and bloody, clutching their hearts. When she crushes the dripping organs, she feeds the life-force within to her mistress with utmost glee.
Then comes the surge of power from the great jade citadel up ahead.
It is a trap. She understands, in this instant, that it is a trap. They chose to have the battle here, and her mistress walked blindly into it, taking the entirety of her forces with her.
This place is a holy place, sacred to the forces of Good – and it can feel her and her mistress' army and it can feel the damage that her mistress has done to the land.
She feels now the priests within the temple, praying for her destruction and the salvation of this land.
The Goodness in this place is slow and ponderous and not that bright, but now that it has come to life it is like an avalanche. It can't be stopped.
The holy flame chars her. It is a pain she has felt before, but always hates.
Her mistress vaporises. She hits the ground, glowing cherry red. When the snows come, she is buried – and when the snow melts, she is carried away in the meltwater and swept down the river.
And once again, she is forgotten and lost. History becomes legend. Legend becomes myth. She passes out of all knowledge. Until at last, by luck and happenstance, she finds a new wearer.
She always does, every time. Evil always finds a way.
…
And then Louise was back in her own body. Thoughtfully, she rubbed her still-warm gauntlet and concentrated on not falling off her horse. What on earth had that been?
Well, it seemed to have been a warning. Trying to attack Goicang would get her burned up by celestial fire falling from the heavens. That was… uh. Good to know, she guessed? Better to know it than to not know it, at least.
"I don't think we'll go in the front door," she said to Cattleya softly.
"I don't think they'd let us in," Cattleya replied, shrugging as she adjusted the set of her stolen robes.
"Well, no." Louise leaned back, folding her arms, and staring up at the blue sky.
"It would be really annoying to have them refuse to let me in. Then I'd have to wait outside!"
What had the gauntlet meant by that, Louise wondered? Was it… was it a thing that it did whenever it was taken to places where former wearers had died? Or was it something more sinister? Well, it was the gauntlet – and had clearly been worn by a lot of very, very evil people before her – so it was probably something more sinister, but Louise really felt that she needed something more usefully precise.
Also, she had to account for the chance that the Evil artefact was trying to manipulate her.
"You would completely try to do that," she muttered. "You evil thing."
"Mrrrrr?"
"… no, not you. You're a cat. You don't…" Louise trailed off. "You only manipulate me for belly rubs and tickles and food and being let out," she clarified.
"Mrra," Pallas replied, licking her fingers.
"Overlady," said Maxy, wrapped up in his oversized looted eastern armour. His floppy hat protruded out from under his helmet. "What are the lord of the place what we is going to wreck looking like?"
Louise frowned, and rummaged through one of her saddlebags. She had a description and a sketch from Emperor Lee's men, but she couldn't recall it off the top of her head. "Let me see…"
"Are he a big man with a mouse tache which are long and he are dressing in red armour and he have got the picture of a dragon with the head of a lion what are being carried by the men what are following him?"
"Yes, I believe so," Louise said, pulling out her papers and checking them.
"There are a man what look like that just up ahead."
Shading her eyes, Louise checked. Annoyingly, Maxy was right. Just leaving the gates was what looked to be a hunting party. And the iconography of the lord of Goicang was carried first among it.
Raising a hand, she slipped out of her saddle and dashed to the edge of the low ridge. Pulling out her spyglass she looked more closely. Yes, the overweight figure with a large moustache perfectly matched the description she had of the lord of this place! But there was also the banner of the lord of Jiazha among them.
Louise could barely dare to breathe. Next to the lord of Goicang was a slim figure dressed in white who didn't even look old enough to shave every day. Could that be the lord of Jiazha? Two of her targets here, riding out away from the defences of this fortress city to go hunting together? That had to be… it had to be some kind of trick!
But what if it wasn't? After all, Emperor Lee had said that they were old allies and that they were united against her. She had killed one of the three, so perhaps the other two would come here to meet and plan their response. If the lord of Jiazha was also moving into Tiangacun, that would explain things. They were working together to stay strong against Emperor Lee.
This was a one-off chance.
"What are you seeing, overlady?" Maggat asked.
Louise thought quickly. With the warning from the gauntlet, there was no way she could assault that fortress-city without its powerful magic being called down upon her. It would be a risk to attack the two of them without proper planning – but a risk she might have to take? Cupping her hands over her mouth, she tried to not hyperventilate. The pressure of the choice was like a worm, squirming in her gut.
"Maggat," she said eventually. "I see an opportunity."
…
The young lord of Jiazha sat uneasily upon his horse. He did not feel comfortable this close to the lord of Goicang. The man was old and experienced and far more cunning. While their lands were allied, they had never been friends. And without Tiangacun here to balance the power of Goicang out, he feared for the safety of his lands. The lords of Goicang were good-hearted, but greedy. His stomach twinged to think that the guardians of the jade city might persuade themselves that his family's land would be safer in their hands.
Though should his line be extinguished, better it be safeguarded by the lords of Goicang than the wretched Dragon Emperor. The forces of evil writhed in that man's heart – and too many of the lords of the rest of Cathay welcomed that man's devilry. As for the rest, they simply feared it.
He feared the emperor, too. How was he so capable? Some days, he could be down in the South East and then mere hours later he would be seen leading his armies against rebels. His mind was a cold and implacable mechanism.
The young man wished sincerely that his father had not been slain by one of the assassins of the treacherous usurper-emperor. If only he was here, he would know what to do. He would know how to deal with Emperor Lee – and he would not be intimidated by the boisterous temperament of the lord of Goicang insisting that the two of them go hunting together.
He still had a hangover from the drinking last night.
"Chin up!" the lord of Goicang bellowed at him. "Fresh air! A sporting hunt! A pleasant autumn's day! This is the life, my son!"
"Yes," he replied. He would rather be home, inside. For all that it was sunny, the wind which came off the mountains was cold. It would probably be worse in the tiger hunt. "Such a… a glorious day. It would be a waste to…" he sighed, "just sit around, reading poetry and drinking tea. What manner of man would want to do that?"
"Exactly! The joy of the hunt – and the glory of protecting the peasants from man-eating tigers tainted by the forces of darkness – is wasted on such people."
"Yes, wasted. And… what under the sun was that?"
Something had just fallen over the cliff above them, landing heavily on its head. The warriors moved to protect the lords. Before them on the road was a strange red creature, horned and dressed in an assortment of offcasts. It wore a red cap, and carried a fire-spear of some kind.
Glaring up at the cliff, it raised its fist and shook it. Words spewed out of its mouth in some strange language. There was no sign of anything up on the cliff side above, however.
"What barbaric tongue is that creature speaking in?" asked the lord of Goicang, frowning. Raising one hand, he had his warriors hold.
The lord of Jiazha frowned. "I think it is one of the languages of the Occident," he said, frowning. "It is… I have read of it. He is saying something like 'A-barrier-that-holds-back-water, you juvenile-fly'."
"What is that meant to mean?"
"I do not know what it means."
"Well, what do you think it means?"
"Wait, wait, he's saying something else. 'Why did you make use of me as a thing what is for… aiming?'? I must apologise – I have only made a cursory study of the languages of the Occident."
"Perplexing indeed," the older man said. "Well, this looks akin to a goblin, and I like not the horns it has. Kill it."
"Are you not curious as to why there is a goblin-like creature speaking an occidental language? Perhaps there is some meaning to this. What could it have fallen from?"
"The demands of leadership are indeed weighty," the Goicang's lord said. "I would say that…"
What he was about to say would be eternally a mystery barring necromantic intervention, however. Because as it turns out, while the demands of leadership were indeed weighty, they were not as weighty as half a ridgeline being collapsed down onto one's head.
There was blood in his mouth. The young man could barely breathe, and his face was only just exposed. From the pain, many bones were broken. He couldn't see any of the others.
"Oh, look at this one," he heard, spoken in some crude occidental tongue. "It are still alive. Overlady! We has a prisoner!"
…
The wind in the mountains screamed like it was mourning its lost lord. No wailing gale could stir the heart of their murderer, though, who sat within her mountaintop fortress contemplating dark things.
"We really are running low on torches," Louise said to herself sadly. Hunched over her desk, she was reviewing their inventory. "The minions ate more of them on the way here than I thought they would."
A man was dead today because of her. Well, fine, rather more than one man was dead today because of her, but the rest had just been soldiers and didn't count as much. By what she knew of this place, he had been a good man. Well, he had been no more evil than your average foreigner. They'd certainly been the enemy of Emperor Lee.
And the lord of Jiazha was in her jails. Or at least he was in a room that she hadn't decorated, which was effectively a jail. She didn't have a real jail. She was
meant to have killed him. That was the terms of her agreement with Emperor Lee.
But. But. She couldn't just… she couldn't kill a man who was lying there, injured, when he had done her no offence. He wasn't even an enemy of hers. She was just doing this for Emperor Lee. And he was so young! Younger than her, if she guessed right.
Louise slumped down. A strand of hair fell in front of her face, and she huffed it out of the way. She'd just… keep him as a hostage. Yes. She'd let Emperor Lee think that the lord of Jiazha was dead and she'd keep him imprisoned and when she was done, she could… she could just set him free and there wouldn't be any real harm done. Well, apart from the fact that he currently had two broken legs and a broken arm, but those would heal.
Curse it all. He had been meant to die in that landslide. That was nice and impassive and… and impersonal. A natural accident. How dare he survive with only three broken limbs!
She really wanted someone to talk to who could… could help her settle her mind. And no, Cattleya was not a good conversationalist on matters of gut feelings and instinctual morality. In fact, she had firmly told Louise that her own moral compass was not to be trusted because it was the instincts of a blood-hungry beast and thus ethical dilemmas tended to resolve into things like 'will this feed me?' and 'will this give me power over others?'. She really wanted Henrietta here, but she'd settle for Jessica.
Not Gnarl, though. He'd just be… he'd be Gnarl.
She rose, pacing up and down across the room. The braziers flickered, casting long dancing shadows on the walls.
And there was another thing. Louise feared very much that she had to go into Goicang regardless of her success in picking off the lord. Oh, certainly, she had 'killed' the three lords – but she had travelled a long way to get here. She had to make her time worthwhile.
It could be very worthwhile indeed. The notes she had managed to get Jessica to translate that she had found in the temple built on this ruined tower said that the monks and nuns here were from Goicang. It said they had taken many powerful yet wicked artefacts from this place, and hidden them in the depths of Goicang, so no figure of Evil could ever use them again. Now, generally Louise was in favour of that, but it was different when it was
her using them. She
was the overlady and they were hers by right and she could use them responsibly to overthrow the wicked Council. And anyway, Emperor Lee was going to take the city, so really it was the moral thing to do to ensure that he couldn't get his hands on them.
Who knew what he'd do with them?
Plus, there was no way she was just
handing the city over to him without a chance to plunder it at least a little bit. If he wanted it intact without her taking her… her fair share, he should have done it himself!
Louise glowered at the wall. Yes. That. That'd show him for acting all dismissive to her and her feelings! Men! They deserved everything that they got coming to them! And maybe if she found something particularly attractive that she didn't want to use, she might give it to him as a present – but he better not have the cheek to
expect a gift from her!
She should probably pillage Henrietta a present too, Louise considered as her mind went off on a tangent. Something exotic and pretty from the Mystic East. She would probably like that. Maybe some of the gorgeous necklaces she'd seen in drawings of noble ladies. Or one of those silk dresses.
Anyway, it was a good thing to bring back gifts when travelling abroad. It was… it was polite. And it would help persuade Gnarl she was serious – and Jessica would probably whine at her if she didn't get a gift too.
Yes, Louise decided, sitting down on her bed. Taking a short diversion to pillage Goicang – subtly, of course – before returning home would just be prudent. Also, profitable. And ethical. And it would make Princess Henrietta happy – and it would show Emperor Lee that she wasn't 'suboptimal', and that he should treat her as a peer if he knew what was goo- bad for him!
All in all, quite excellent.
…
You know what's going to happen now @EarthScorpion!
